Carved

I saw ribs, I saw bones, I ad-libbed, My lungs filled I with stones. I saw her eyes; Green like the sea, Looking up at cloudless skies; Bel esprit. Who; Can I be? When I eschew; From all that I see? So hear me out, Hear my poor head as it murmurs, To kingdom come; devout. Can you see beneath this knight's armor? White and polished bone, So refined. All this manner is more or less unknown; Soft words; Maligned. All I want to see is white granite, Does that not come from beneath all skin? Veins as volumptious as pomegranate, Dissever and carve me out; bring out is what hiding within. Statue; Picasso, Cloying like cachou, Miro.