the staring sun and hugging heat
had baked your skin to stone
and when the healer found the girl
shrunk, fainted, and alone
she picked you up, in able arms
and brought you to her home

she sponged your smooth ceramic skin,
set solid by the sun
and painted eyes, and ears, and mouths,
(and tendrils, just for fun)
and dressed you nice, in willowy white,
in cotton skirts homespun

and when you woke, as something strange,
transformed by death defied
she fed you, sent you on your way
with bread and tea supplied
and all your new deimatic marks
kept predators aside