Moonlit Nights of Transgendered Lycanthropy

My mother thinks
I am lying,
But to tell you the truth
What happened that painless night:

I was as a daughter,
My skin wrapped delicately
Around an unforgiving armature
Blood flowed obediently through crowded vessels.

I was bitten
By some act of G-d,
Or perhaps by the bindings that
Left paper-scars across my ribcage

White Tracings down my chest,
Adhesive allergies leaving
Sun-hot pus over flattened femininity.
Serum ran up skin into a purulent sky,

And the moon rose.

I was transformed
Through engendered lycanthropy.
Created not by my own will,
But by a transient and ever-flowing contagion,
I became myself.