My
friends won't know me.
I
am about to shed a skin and go through changes.
For
one thing, I shall be taller and newer
(which
in itself is amazing!)
and
for another, little bits of me
will
have shiny corners and gleam
unexpectedly,
refracting strange lights.
Mostly,
at first, my awkward angles
will
show through more pronouncedly.
Instead
of gnawing my knuckles, biting my nails,
and
rubbing my eyes half-asleep,
I
shall tear off whole strips of skin
which
will quickly shrivel and blow away,
brittle
as a bug's transparent wing.
I
must admit that this time around
I
had hoped for wing-buds myself.
Instead
I have a knob on one shoulder
and
on the sixth finger of my left hand
a
claw which I keep folded up in my palm.
No
doubt I will find them useful
for
carrying burdens and climbing mountains
in
my next metamorphosis.
However,
with every shrug of my shoulders,
a
patch of the new me will be apparent.
Soon
I will be iridescent -
a
veritable Josephine in a skin-coat of many colours.
Though
the rainbows won't last for long
and
soon darken to the painful lace of tattoos,
I
will have my moment of glory
when
I stand up straight in an explosion of possibilities
leaving
only a little mound of dust and scales at my heels.
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