365-poem-project:

i grow old. the skin
folds loose over my ruddy veins. my eyes
crease like bedsheets. even my tongue
tastes thick. i thought
this day would never come, when i would look into the mirror
and wonder if it was always like this, if time
sank into the slopes of my curved hips like the old hillsides
worn into the ground.

last night i dreamed
that i climbed back into my childhood like a cloak - the thought
makes me want to unzip myself.