Aging

When my hair fades to white will you still look at me the way you did when it reminded you of fire?

When my breasts no longer sit so high will you still want to touch me with the same passion?

When my skin begins to reflect the harshness of the sun will you love the way it had warmed my face and dotted my nose with freckles?

When my movements slow and we can no longer dance for hours will you still find satisfaction from sitting on the couch?

Will our fleeting youth bring us close, or will you want to chase being young forever?

When the lines at the corners of my eyes become more permanent will you love them because they were from years of smiling with you?