I saw ribs,
I saw bones,
I ad-libbed,
My lungs filled I with stones.
I saw her eyes;
Green like the sea,
Looking up at cloudless skies;
Bel esprit.
Who;
Can I be?
When I eschew;
From all that I see?
So hear me out,
Hear my poor head as it murmurs,
To kingdom come; devout.
Can you see beneath this knight's armor?
White and polished bone,
So refined.
All this manner is more or less unknown;
Soft words; Maligned.
All I want to see is white granite,
Does that not come from beneath all skin?
Veins as volumptious as pomegranate,
Dissever and carve me out; bring out is what hiding within.
Statue;
Picasso,
Cloying like cachou,
Miro.