And I thought
Glass was transparent.
The glass that is you
Is it painted bright
With the silver of affection?
When I'm peeking inside you
Is it really an image of me,
Inside your heart that I see,
Or are you a mirror and I am
Just projecting how I wish things to be?
A window into somebody's heart
Or a mirror, a bare projection of my want,
Which one are you, I wonder
How I wish, o pane of glass, we could chat.
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