Vanity hung, to glitter silver,

the young eyes watch, musing.

Already I see the age, the pull

of taut skin going slack,

the dull shine of eyes blue,

white leaching dark color from me

and spotting elsewhere, slowly,

bones pitted and mottled, stained

with each passing decade, the

fresh peach youth already dimming,

tipping so slight towards the end.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *