glass glass isn’t sincere;  sure, it’s clear,  it’s as breathtaking as kashmir,  but it jeers,  it’s damage is cold and precise like a spear, and it’s bound to hit you, no matter where you steer.  it has already got to me,  slicing the faint skin o’ my soul,  the shards know their position,  to rob, to abduct –  they take everything except my ambitions.   i’m left with that,  for what?  well, glass is a reflection after all…  so is my ambitions all i have to offer?  the glass