Lines scribbled
on wrinkled pages.
Lines riddled
on wrinkled faces.
Times march relentless.
Stories told in colored ink.
Once young and scared,
we blink
at our reflections.
Still bright eyes
hold memories deep.
Life half lived.
Twilight comes.
Sunset colors seep.
Shedding armor,
ill fitting, too tight.
We embrace our nakedness,
and dance into the night.
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