This week’s Wicked Wednesday prompt is to ‘write from the point of view of a glass on the edge of a table.’
They think that I am haughty because I stand a different way.
They forget that I am made of sand, while they are made of clay.
My purpose is so different, it sears me from the crowd
I’m not blind to judging glances, determining what’s allowed.
Cold harsh light of morning, house business through the day
Visitors chat and sip hot brews, you all improve their stay.
I’m forgotten in the corner, stained from the night before,
Our value’s measured all the same: by people wanting more.
Finally it’s evening. Entertainment at last is done
We’re bundled all together now, cups and I as one.
Won’t you let me come with you, washed and placed to side?
I see no need to shut me out, let’s all stand side by side.
If you were to form a wall, and jostle all around,
Fragile nature causes knocks, I’m falling to the ground.
Should I dive and shatter, would you cheer or be unaware?
Would you mourn the loss of me, or simply not even care?
My life is on a coaster, often a solitary ride.
I’m curious about the warmth that’s on the other side.
– Cara Sutra
The Sexy Bit
The above poem isn’t really very sexy. So here’s a poem of a glass dildo on the edge of a table, with some fetish gear in the background.