80

I hope by the time I’m 80 I’d have written a million notes to you Pieces I’d read to myself in secret And feel the passion fan my youth to flames Septuagenarian I hope to your features, I’m no alien I hope your body still yells my name I hope your fire never stops coursing my veins Even at sixty Still kiss me as you did at sixteen And that you caress my wrinkles Like you did my cheekbones. And at fifty I hope you keep singing me serenades Your breath on my face As you contort into complex shapes May we be together at forty With three kids off to college While we dread the silence We had claimed we missed I hope to love you even more at thirty Through midlife crisis and our growing family To fulfil your cravings While you cradle my babies And as we swear the oath in the dusk of your twenties In your father’s tiny lawn, where he swears you were conceived I hope you can clearly see That I’m nothing if you don’t love me.