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She drew back, staring at it. I told this hair to go away.

Splendid, she whispered.

She lay back, heaving a deep sigh. The angles of her face were tight and delicate and precise in the dimness.

It was like fruit between her legs, like peaches or plums, it was just wet enough. I brought my fingers to my nostrils.

She drew back, staring at it. I told this hair to go away.

She drew back, staring at it. I told this hair to go away.

It's all drugs, my love, she said, as though feeling my wonder. She kissed my beard, kissing it along the bone of my jaw.It's hormones and modern science; I have a woman's chemicals inside me, that's all. They can make me look young, but they can't save my life.

Not an electric light burned in the place. It was the dreamiest darkness.

She sat up on the bed, her breasts amazingly firm, and the pink nipples turned up. Her silver-and-black hair made a rumpled mass down her back and displayed a long neck.

It's all drugs, my love, she said, as though feeling my wonder. She kissed my beard, kissing it along the bone of my jaw.It's hormones and modern science; I have a woman's chemicals inside me, that's all. They can make me look young, but they can't save my life.

I sat down beside her, embracing her. I felt the moist thin silkiness of her skin, not healthy in a woman too thin, yet delicious. Even the bones of her wrists were beautiful.

She tugged at my hair, and kissed me with her eyes closed, all over my face, and quite suddenly I realized with a shock that my beard and mustache were on my face.

Well, she loved it. I took a long breath, feeling the toll of all this changing and magic, but I was as hard as a statue for her. I wanted to pounce on her. Instead I let her bury her face in the hair of my chest, and kiss my nipples, and the pleasure went right to my loins.

And you were the last thing, she breathed into my ear, her hands clawing gently at my back.You were the last thing she saw. How good that was for her.

I kissed her and held her, my hands free and rough over her thighs and stealing into the secret crevice, to feel there the firmness of a young woman's secret body. Chemicals, was it? Modern science?

Those things preserve, I said,but you make the beauty.

No, she said.Bring it back I couldn't quite figure this out, why the hair had come of its own, but that was the whole story so far, my body came on its own, and in its own form. One lapse in my will, one drifting into pride in my physical self, and the hair had come.

But I had to do it. What was the point of warning her that I might dissolve in the process? I was going to do it.

I kissed the calves of her legs, her thighs. The garden rustled and sighed behind me. For the first time I heard a waterfall, its gentle trickle, and then I listened to the sound of water touching leaves, but my body was an engine of desire, and what drove me was her naked breasts, rather small, with the pink nipples of a girl, and the smell of death, rising sweet like a crushing lily. It was not that the death attracted me; it was that it made her all the more precious, something to be lost in a moment.

Let me see you without your clothes, she said. She reached for buttons, but I gestured there was no need. I stood up and back from her.

She sat up on the bed, her breasts amazingly firm, and the pink nipples turned up. Her silver-and-black hair made a rumpled mass down her back and displayed a long neck.

Well, she loved it. I took a long breath, feeling the toll of all this changing and magic, but I was as hard as a statue for her. I wanted to pounce on her. Instead I let her bury her face in the hair of my chest, and kiss my nipples, and the pleasure went right to my loins.

Let me see you without your clothes, she said. She reached for buttons, but I gestured there was no need. I stood up and back from her.

She lay back, heaving a deep sigh. The angles of her face were tight and delicate and precise in the dimness.

She drew back, staring at it. I told this hair to go away.

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