I couldn't see it then. People who live in glass houses should watch their words. Children grow transparent with the outside looking in. Here, a child utters glass. She speaks and shards fall from her teeth.
Some words are cinderblock, think of that.
When the child sees a mirror, she can't speak. The glass, uncracked, glances back. And though it bifurcates her view, the child can see through and know that glass has made her into two. Shards, fates, the glass accumulates. It looks transparent but is not like words one cannot look through.