Will you love me
brother
when I am old and grey?
My face revealing the striations
of tireless sedimentary accumulations
the sometimes crumbling
wear of less careful rappelers.
Weathered breasts long
sucked dry
supple skin sloughed;
Pink lips and cheeks
faded to steady beige.
Could your soul’s gaze not waver from
sun-scarred eyes?
Tell me what remains
for you
of bodies when youth,
your own,
has eroded away?
wonder in a cliffsface
Muser's log: Stardate Indefinite 