Poem #2,784 | Love may save me

Kiss of light mid-March
at this hour is a boon &
sucked on by my bone-
pile – now at sixty years
of age [a whispering of
rising ardour strips out
my laid-up fat – even at
this mark in time] & all
those plans will ruin in
this later decade – I am
tired [but awake] – See
how my greying hair is
my breadcrumb’d path
behind me – but I’ll not
return by it – I flake as I
age – love may save me