mistaken identities in poetry

oh, we’re all shapeshifters
it takes years and years and
we have very little control
over our eventual outcomes
but we’re all shapeshifters
things get bigger and smaller
things bloat and creak and sag
they strengthen and buckle in
but we are all shapeshifters
these wages of living’s sin
carved into our very faces
as well as hidden places
until it all just stops
this is our superpower