I have a skull
and a collarbone lurking,
and a cord of spinal stones
standing on end beneath my skin.

I have a skeleton leaning on it’s toes,
clacking fingers inside my own.
It has strong teeth and broad
skeletal shoulders.

I am the very sign of life,
and within I carry the sigil of death.
It is waiting to emerge, patient
and pale, thin and thoughtful.

If you lean a little closer, you might
even see it’s bone white teeth.