Porcelain,

A feat of breathless repose,
frozen in flight -- your opalescent demi-gloss--
I wish they could bottle this feeling so I could 
have a dose at a time that would let me keep my breath.

Glass,

Stained pure fervor against the window,
filtering the light of your god into mine;
Infectious red, framed with lead
or a noble blue, concealing daggers
of sin in this holy sea bedsid...

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