i, all my being slowly aging

Love this 🙂

Lance Sheridan

Age, you came by way of withering hands
aching bones
and missing smiles- i remember the smiles,
tucked away
in old albums in an attic where a burned
out bulb
swung with its deacon, the dark.

Ah! yes, you have all things ready for me in a
quiet place
i’ll be there, by and by, as weariness continues to
haunt me
(after all it is your messenger, what sense is this)
i already
feel the skeleton of your fingers, thin and damp
touching me
a cold, airy vengeance- a shadowy portend.

i cover one eye as i slowly grow older,
it hides
my tears- yet, my hand feels my sadness;
perhaps we
can strike a bargain. … let me dance
once more
barefoot in my memories, days of yesteryear.

As i bid my friends adieu, may i say with certainty
there wasn’t
a place quite like my eyes, for with…

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