Carol Frost: The Undressing

I just found this in Contemporary American Poetry (part of my reading) and liked it so much. Never heard of Carol Frost until this moment.

~*~

The Undressing

They took off their clothes 1000 nights
and felt the plaster of the moon
sift over them, and the ground roll
them in its dream. Little did they know
the light light and clay and their own sweat
became a skin they couldn't wash away.
Each night bonded to the next,
and they grew stiffer. They noticed this
in sunlight - there were calluses,
round tough moons on their extremities,
shadows under their eyes,
and sometimes a faint sour smell they hadn't had as children.
It worried them, but at night the animal
in their bodies overcame their reluctance
to be naked with each other,
and the mineral moon did its work.
At last when they woke up and were dead,
statues on their backs in the park,
they opened their mouths
and crawled out, pitifully soft and small,
not yet souls.