When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now. Will you be sending me a Valentine?

The essence of a woman
Whose skin used to gleam
Fresh youth taken for granted
Experiencing life
That shows on her face

Yesterday only
When attention was hers
She now disappears
And only she knows
The truth of this woman
Left inside

Joyful youth remains
Inside her heavy heart
What is this youthful lust
When passion builds with time?

Her body full and wanting
To touch, to lick, to taste
The gleam has bled within
It’s written on her face

Article Source: http://journal.ilovephilosophy.com

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