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the hand etched in glass We knew this was coming. We always thought they were flying, but, no, it’s light alone. It’s morning and the light is streaming in. Blinding, you think, and put your hand up to your eyes. And stayed. We’re all part window. There’s someone coming in through the french window, but you don’t notice him; you notice the window. And you wonder why the pane was made; such tracery, cf. antiquity, or it could be simply in the distance. We’ve always thought We’re all a part streaming in in the background glass gets articulate And you wonder why the pane was made, and you look at the pane, not at him. 53 ...

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