Shed the Glib and Bones

Public interrogation swelled and ceased.
Self proclaimed verdict of
Counterfeit.

I unzipped my plastic skin,
threw my havocked bones to Flight in migration,
banished my
glass green eyes.
Nothing left of my lonely, fine figure but
metal
teeth.

Mr. Dead Sea gorged himself on my crackled shell;
Next day he “spewed me out of his mouth.”
Tramp, Or my soul, acrid and heavy like sand in the mouth,
Convulses in space for its rightful owner.

She decorates murderous detached hearts and sobs when embraced with love.
'Hunger' is her middle initial with calligraphy curls of burgeoned eyes and skin suctioned ribs.
Her nests of idle words scrounged in trees of “vanity underneath the sun...”
Fall.
She is ink mishaps in books.
She storms with elephants and Preys with octopuses.
Stars are enticed by her.
Sun is her sea.

I am a mere vestige now.
Devouring time with my metal teeth in desperation for a Mother
Something.
I donated preconceived eloquence I've yet to attain.
Vigil to my hollow words and pulped art -
I am a mere ghost.
Reconstruct our memories and mourn that I was good.

She is insatiable for bona fide.