States of Matter
Glass is a fluid disguised as a solid
As it sits pretty in window frames
And is molded into bottles and vases
And animal figurines
It is slowly settling. Over years and years
It is called by gravity’s sirens.
Downward silent teardrops moving at glacial pace.
We traded ice for water—
The same two elements
And hydrogen bonds
Warmer to the touch
But harder to grasp.
The sensation of water
Letting it slip through cupped hands.