Table For Glasses

Sweep the dirty stairs, the ones I waited on.
This is just for me.
I felt it watching her.
It happens too fast to make sense of it.
To make it last.
Where do you intend to go with your dirty dress?
Lead my skeptic sight to the table and the light.
It happened too fast to make sense of it.
To make it last.
Not asking of me anything, saying nothing about what it means,
without anybody telling me how I should feel,
lead my skeptic sight.

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