Not even a year since that photo was taken,
how much joy and identity was living within
graceful, limber inter-twinings;
the fresh breeze of womanly motion
Now, I have to put her away,
cover her with
wool coats
closed lips
polite smiles
Regurgitating reasons over and over
do not help and do not belong
Redefining the sound and taste of a soul mate
replace with comfort in growing old together
The only problem is, that I am not old yet
and the in between still matters