I am glass.
My skin is a thin glass layer. Beneath it course the rivers of my existence, small sapphires of blood sliding through the valleys and gullies of my veins.
My face is a stained glass window. If the sun shines on it just right the colors will mix together into a rainbow panoply. Features cut and melded together into a mesh of me. Look closely- can you see yourself reflected in the blue/green glass of my eyes?
My heart is a glass figurine, thrumming and humming in spite of its composition, pumping the life force through me. If it shatters a million tiny sapphires will pool in the river bends and sit, lifeless, lost. It floats in my ribs, dangerously close to the glass of my skin. It should be buried deep, deeper within but instead there it is, the most delicate of my organs, asking to be broken.
My legs are fragile glass pedestals. If I put them down with too much force they will shatter, and if I put too much weight upon them they will buckle. I balance precariously upon their bases, fearing with each step that part of my ankles or knees will crack and chip.
My womb is a glass vase, empty. No flowers sit within its lips. It sits, expectant, deserted, purposeless.
I am a glass creature, fragile and delicate. But I am beautiful, transparent; my inner me is not hidden behind opaque walls or shrouded curtains. It is on display, behind the glass case of my countenance. It sits, exposed, for viewers to see. It isn’t hard to shatter my casing and steal the valuables; I’m not protected from the elements within. I am there. I am here. Do you want to reach inside and hold my gentle heart, feel it within your hand, feel how it would only take a rough squeeze to destroy the essence of me.
*http://thirdcoastfestival.org/library/999-re-sound-149-the-piano-show?closed=true
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