Everything on my body is drying out and receding
But my hair still drips with grease
The outside reflects the inside
I have always had a mind like an oil slick
A product of mistakes of the modern world
That poisons everyone who stops to admire how it plays with light
The first flakes of snow brush against my bare legs
Taking flecks of skin down to the ground with them
I wish it would all come off at once
So I could leave the husk in my hallway to warn explorers
Turn back
You are headed toward the basilisk