|Poem| The Wrinkled Love.
Do you remember our
first kisses flying during the fiery first date?
I do, too, Like 'twas yesterday,
that same funny feeling, when Honey
you breathed close enough to be my breath
soaring my dreams really high
with my veins underlaid beneath your kiss
as our naked souls laid under the fuzzy monsoon sky
and how we rode through the roadway of bliss.
And now, when those eyes call us old,
Look - We did it, you and me -
for the warmth of our love, hasn't turned cold,
when no one came, for us, we set ourselves free.
Staring at my eyes, she
for the last time shyly hid
her wrinkled fingers entwined with mine,
as her ring - our symbol of love
still continues to shine
like the twinkling stars above.
And although,
"Our days might not last forever,
the countless memories shall outlive us."
[About]
This poem is narrated through the eyes of an 'old' couple, who have basked in each other's never ending love for a long time to have experienced each other's blissfulness.
Love is the answer, for those who have truly found it.
And although our physical bodies might not sustain this endless vibration, the countless memories that we curate and experience with our loved ones will surely last across through the timeless boundaries of life.
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