Is It Real?

She was a taxidermist, every
month brought a new challenge;
she chose subjects that recalled
the worst traits of the boyfriends
that had let her down, badly.

After several years she began
to choose her mate based
on the pelt she loved best,
searching for the perfect eyes
for the lies she'd be sold.

I watched her the first time
map our future, recompose
my traits in an unknown skin,
her hand shaping my body
to be preserved behind glass.

But I am a snake, I shed my shell,
fragile as the finest bone.