The question that remains:
Are you prepared? Are you ready to experience what is beyond the shades and the panes of glass and whatever easily penetrable barrier, buffering what is and what could be, are exhibiting quite the hubris for such a fallible facade. What learned knowledge to be displayed can range from a various extent of posititivity to an abysmal pessimism. Swarms of locusts could cloud the skies (and) or frogs could fall from the skies, and spiders could crawl in through the cracks, covering your person.
A sunlit landscape as simplistic as a beach could be painted in front of you, and the fresh ocean air can infiltrate the screen pores. Depending on your cup of tea, a cityscape with decorative lights, twinkling like the stars that cannot be seen, decorating the framed glass like the view you get by sticking your face directly in front of a tree during Christmastime. However, it could be a mountanous landscape, hiding pristine lakes and other natural wonders.
It’s a window.
It’s a display of your beloved, who that may be–real or imaginary or two-dimensional or pipe dream–running toward you with flowers in their hands (and maybe hair), blocking the sun to only create a halo, and they place their palm on the window. You reciprocate, and there’s the palm-on-palm moment.
You could be just starting your day, breathing in the morning air as your coffee perks or drips.
It’s another day.
And then whatever creature living under your bed or in your closet wraps its tenticles around your leg, and you’re dragged into the black.
Some windows shouldn’t be opened…
…Now that I think about it.
Ah, perhaps they should be opened.