Love Like Glass

Love Like Glass                              July 2, 2010

If love were like glass, then the Sahara is an orgy,

An ever-perpetuating frolicking of sand particles continuing to expand.

Out of all of that, the artisan places his granules into a kiln,

Forming art, and that is what love is, in fact.

Love lives to sparkle when the sun shines upon it,

But when nighttime comes, it is as opaque as the London fog.

It speaks to the soul without the listener being able to see,

Forcing its victim to feel deep within and do so without question.

Love is crystal clear like freshly-cleaned glass,

Yet can get smudged as time and grime build up as the clock ticks.

To get that build-up off, one must use Windex,

And pray to God that she will let you see light again.

Love is candid, or at least it appears that way,

For sometimes it works best when one tells the other less,

But, then after a while, such intentions go a wry,

Leaving one to wonder whether that love can fully survive.

Love is never perfect, and if it was, it wouldn't be love.

Glass, like love, can be chipped, suggesting a lack of stability.

It can also be scratched, meaning that at some point, there was strife,

But no matter the marks, you know it simply as "life."