I want to see my hair turn grey
while you are smiling at me
I want to sit next to the sea
with you, and kiss your temples every day
I want to sense the slow decay
of time, behind the windows of our place
I want to drink the smiles from your face
and put my lips to what you say
I want to tremble, with hands
wrapped in yesteryear’s skin
and awaken the beauty that lies therein
I want to feel my words grow weaker
so I can thank the air that carries them
I want to dance the slowest dance with you
to see a sacred frailty
replacing the tempest of our youth
To let my story become a thing,
a big rock I carry a vain attempt at gravity,
and you touching it with brittle fingers.
To feel my teeth fall out,
hey! let’s keep them with yours together in a wooden box
and let’s whistle through the gaps,
let’s have some youth together.
I want to have known a love that always grew
I want to grow older than our oldness, like
the sand under the sea.
Are you coming along with me?