A Real Boy

I walked beneath the ribcage of a giant whale; Encapsulated in the briney entrails of an empty long-dead being. Its grimace echoed in these halls of boned wall, Of which calcite chambers temper; Sturdy glass upon the shores. Licked by lightning, hiding hints, Raking sand with combs of sea, Until I reached the portcullis, I was too afraid to breathe. From the bone, hung weeded curtains, Sour, from the sea. Dangled down, to repeat a sense, Of giant mammal's teeth. The viscera of foliage hung demure. Violent, still, while biding time. Swaying wet with salt, debris; Beneath sat a heavy jaw. Unclenched by neither cheek nor jowl, Yet open for a crunch, The mouth from which I stepped, Devoured, A sense of self I hadn't kept. What once was oaken, knotted pine, Engrained in skin of shrub and wood. Was now the fleshy, un-divine, Boy who ought and could.