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window
Folder:
cursive what was i then
and why didn't you show me?
the window sat still
and waited
lonely for me to open it, for a touch.
i have seen through the looking glass.
i caught a glimpse of a different sentence
but i left it alone,
misunderstanding.
now i would give my vanity to rerun this circumstance.
i'll still think of you at midnight
with my face pressed against the glass
to hear something, anything:
words that lie me to sleep
and haunt me to dream.
