The foil bones of my ribs

rattle inside the blasted kiln

begging for release

the real fire is within

glaze drips on the very bottom of my skin

trapping me in the plaster

a new artwork begins

roar with my speckles

blazed with the heat

making me new again

then sanding me neat

oh glassy surface

maker make me clean

allow every crevice

to reflect all of me