Aging Love
With age I turn
into a canvas
and the paints
of my life
grow out of me
A mole
for every
back-handed compliment
A skin tag
for every
pushy advance
A brown spot
for every
grope
A red spot
for every
beating
A wrinkle
for every
one who’s laid
the actions
of others
on my responsibility
And
how many pounds
to soften the poundings
for being
on the unwanted side
of the hill
October 5, 2018
OctPoWriMo2018 Day 5
