Each rib carved with another name for god,

I am a child of this labyrinth,
Under everydusky skies.
The implication of a color where sunset gold meets midnight blue,
But never quite touches or intermingles.
Something prelingual has saturated my once innocent domain;
Rows and rows of sharks teeth, 
Perfectly aligned as keys for a piano,
Atop a poppy and milkthistle cathedral.