What windows have we?
those without curtains of dreams,
those devoid of mystery,
or the crumbs of history...
...and...
one wonders if the world looks in,
instead of us looking out through them,
if indeed the world gazes,
into the abyss of our hollow spirits.
Under roof lines,
these windows,
one and all...the same,
under the guise of some manic desire
to control meaning.
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