Your eyes speak of my youth and my hand holds
Yours with that ease of emotion only
Years can grow; suppleness has changed to folds,
Wrinkles crease our nakedness, laughingly
The young would fun – what do they know? Your breasts
Suckled our children (and me once or twice),
And now our skins are thin, our love’s contests
Are tactile drawings of our minds, which slice
Into our hours, sending ripples of sex
Around the day – I kissed your body in
To my being so now it is the text
From which I read – for everything – loving.
Tenderness does not age, how then can we?
Look into my eyes, see your youth in me!