Pressed over time repeatedly
squeezed under pressure by
mechanisms that could be known 
but why bother? All you need to know 
is that I come out thin, fragile looking, 
as close to translucent as a real thing 
can be but you can trust me
as a covering, you can trust me
to adapt, you can trust me 
to fold into myself and become strong
in the fire and even if I burn
it won’t last long,
I don’t have the capacity 
to hold on to that heat.