Frankenstein (A Poem)

Flesh, patchwork quilt
Summer storm gave birth to you
Ground relinquished your body
You shall call me “God”

I toyed with switching the beginning of the last line from "you" to "they" because of Dr. Frankenstein's ego, but I left it to merely encompass the monster.  I do (and don't) like this poem.  

Extras (some horror microfiction):

She hesitated
"It's okay... touch it."
"So warm," she said, smiling.
They watched the hellmouth grow.

"Girls die," sister said, "for dresses like these."
She twirled.  The patchwork, skin skirt flared outward.

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