Insides Out

I made a reliquary
to hold your finger bones
the tones
of ochre and ivory
a counterpoint
to burning red silk
and milk-
white, bone white, stone tight joints.
I told you once before
I wanted to possess,
to dress
and make a mess and more;
to crack your porcelain skin.
You thought I joked
and croaked
until I let your outsides
in.