Sanoja: Tilt. 'Til It Kills. Land Of Fragments.

Hold a beverage and a ruined reflection, underestimated my trajection, a =
single pane is all that separates us, thank goodness that the glass is =
gracious. How can this shattered vessel hold up under such close =
scrutiny, cruel light is cracking every mirror that ever flattened my =
variety. I'm the fairest in a land of fragments, target window stained =
with time's advancement, I'll hold the note so high, or tie it to a =
brick and let it fly. You set up a brand new sheet of see through, a =

double thickness will just break twice, cold air rushing in, through the =
fracture we saw the flaw in the glare.
Submitted by: Mel