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About This Poem
Bittersweet
Don't look over the glass peaks
Blue and white china breaking
Hold my hand, hold my hand
Crinkle of brow, wet eyes
Like a spying globe, except it hurts
Because I am afraid of everything
I'm tied down under water to this violin
And even though I can see the sun lacing above me
This is still too hard, and my wings dissolve
I smile at you even though it burns
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