He leaves my brittle bones
In an epiphany of agony.
There is a shower
Of sudden cracking,
And soon I am left
Battered and whisked.
Add a sprinkle of despair
And a touch of glares.
Toss me into the oven;
Bake and burn the imperfections.
Watch the muscle and bone
Alight and flicker.
Peel off my outer layer.
Arousals of black smoke,
Lungs filled with frosting and acid -
Pull me out!
Cut me into pieces,
Served on a golden platter.
"Look at my perfectly baked
Little girl," mother says.
The hardened shell cracks
With the rise of her lips,
And the cook stands
On the side,
Admiring his masterpiece.
