First her skin had gone powdery gray,
then she turned desiccate, a pile of fine powder
that became a fist-sized egg.
And when she emerged from the shell,
her egg-tooth crunching through, so satisfying,
her skin was fine as a newborn lizard’s,
a supple leather, caramel-soft.
She dressed in gray silk and silver lace
after the change, because
the guys liked the lingerie,
and now it didn’t matter.
They could stroke all they liked
and she did not feel.