Window

Sunlight peaks a ray through glass. The curtain acts as a temporary barrier. Something that can be moved aside, as needed. The warmth can be closed off or left open for enjoyment. The window itself is a facade. A permanent disregard for the outer world. It looks much like it should. It is clear. You can see through it. It is there for years protecting from the elements. Providing space for the inner contents, much cherished. Reflecting light and images off the smooth surface, you forget that windows are mirrors, until you see your own face staring back. They can be opened. Broken. Climbed through. They act as a holding place for hints of the outside. You cannot disappear entirely behind a window. Only a wall provides that sort of comfort.