so
in the dream you have
eyes made of full moons
and glossy lips
in daylight
and under fluorescents
your skin wrinkles where
youth has flattened out
on a face already carved
into planes and
where the skin has stretched
from too much
self-imposed forced smiling
half-lidded
you lean forward
–the kiss clumsy–
though your mouth looks wet
i feel every line
every dry crack
in your lips
they compress against my own
the softness gone
like air from a deflated balloon
the dream doesn’t let
me taste you
dream-me thinks
ah, you are getting older
——
hat tip to C of Optional Poetry, and this poem in particular
Words and Feathers 