Metamorphosis
Poem from Woven Tales
Your flesh cries for me;
your skin, my clothing,
this covering I need.
My eyes delight in your shelter,
the lasting power of immortality.
To touch is not enough
I must wear perfection.
Becoming the mannequin
of this lifelong transformation,
the design of time will be altered
through my artistry.
I carve my sin deeper
peeling your delicate flesh,
careful not to harm
the fragile nature of this gift.
Each cut a modification,
each stitch a revision
to the putrid skin I dwell in -
death grants new life.
Metamorphic,
I model in your fashion,
transfer your existence,
and mold new life.
Your flesh, my covering;
your skin, my clothing -
bodily perfection I seek.
Become my immortality.
Metamorphosis © 2007 Rena Aliston. All rights reserved.
This poem was inspired by Silence of the Lambs and is available in two poetry books - Woven Tales: Selected Poems and Unspeakable Truths, Volume 1: Damnation Begins.