A Child Made of Glass

I could write you a terrible story.
I could write you a story about a lovely young woman who lives in a glass room.
She has hair to just below her breasts, a deep Southern tan, patient eyes, and the smile of a woman who knows she is being lied to.
She sits endlessly in this glass room.
Everyone watches, looks, and wants.
She burns incense, reads books, and listens to classical music.
She wastes her days in leisurely thought.
Daydreaming.
Everyone watches, looks, and wants.
People crowd the edges of her glass room.
Admiring her movements, her unique mannerisms, and her slim figure in denim cut offs.
Everyone watches, looks, and wants.
But no one sees.