I'm almost 71 years old. I'm lost in a changing world. I still have hope for progeny. I still believe in True Love, Santa Claus and happy endings. I don't think I'll ever really die.
watching you draw all the beautiful things you saw creating worlds with the movement of your wrist drawing the lips you've kissed i see my eyes form pencil creating a storm fingers grasping holding it tightly lips parting slightly creating my curls dark golden locks in swirls you look up and me and smile and i want to look at you a while fingers entwined as the masterpiece is signed