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.
