Glass Act
by Amanda Stopa Goldstein

  
When I started pulling the glass out
of my mouth he was surprised
not that there was glass coming out
of my mouth but that the calluses
in my cheeks kept my mouth from bleeding

He watched me piece the crystals together
trying to make sense of the chemistry,
the pressure, the heat coming from inside me
trying to make sense of a crooked chandelier made of
the pieces I could pull from my throat

With the glass away from my teeth
I tried to speak but the chandelier had cooled 
become brittle and burst creating a cacophony
I tried to speak but–
All he could hear was the ringing song of shattering