Vintage Love
A face well lived in
hands that hold years
a memory worn body
The fire rarely burns high
but the embers always smolder
Desire is the fountain of youth
Passion is the nectar of the gods
There’s no room for time
between the sheets
and the wrinkles roll away
like smoke after midnight
April 7, 2017
Image of unknown origin, used without permission, with no credit taken, no profit made, and no offense intended.
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