ago my face was supple as a sundial peach moss rose in bloom enveloped in solar rays and water play these stark days multiple tubes of rich creams and peachy mineral powders make it to fake it that last wisp of tangible youth clings to the petals with a slippery grip the next bud ready to to take it's place
oh to remain a dewy beauty in the physical realm of being for a few more days or even decades before the stark reality of gravity and it's cruel minions... there will always be those fairer than thee.