open-mouthed god


my rawboned hunger drags out a
hollow sound as if it’s biting
deep within…
satisfied with never being

It’s the same terrible appetite
that leads me to believe I’m an
god to whom no one ever brings

until standing, peeled from the skin
at an altar while my forehead
is marked with
uninteresting human stain
I shut tight

those cold marble eyes and feel the
sediment of me— crumble down
my mortal
face and closed lips


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