I wish I could wake up
In a display case
No wood but my
Limbs
Nothing wet but my
Paint
Flawless
Smooth Razor-virgin
No searching
For caverns
To plunder
No caves to protect
From thieves
Gone asunder
I wish my canvas was blank
Androgynous beauty
A creation of
Choice
But I think I used to have a voice
Characters danced in my esophagus
And played my cords
Like a
Cello
They shouted on a
Page
And longed for the
Stage
But struggled against
My front
Teeth
After years of neglect,
Too cruel to forget
And too torturous again
To repeat
They forwent their "adieus"
But muttered **** yous"
As they went to turn tricks
Down the street