10.12.18b Sand speaks

Will you love me
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

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