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Aug 2013
The trouble with glass
Is that there is none.
Though crack'd, distempered,
From either side, you see through it,
Indisputable, the other side.

The trouble with love
Is that, even though like glass,
You see it clear and through it
Into your lover's eyes, yet,
Love by definition, cloudy, starry,
blinds.


August 30th 2013
Washed up after lunch a giant glass serving dish. Gave you the poetry leftovers, here.
Nat Lipstadt
Written by
Nat Lipstadt  120/M/nyc
(120/M/nyc)   
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