Years pass ... the outside changes
our eyes sink, hide
after all they saw ...
Our mouth, slowly loses the
smile but we do not know
the rictus of age one day surprise us ...
Changed on the outside ...
in our hair, they appear
silver threads
and our walk ...slows ...
The tenderness of the grandchildren
wards off loneliness, protects us
and we feel safe there, as
grandmothers, and without needing
to be more than that ...
But fate is playful
has plans of it's own
Our plans are not important...
And suddenly you're a guitar
in the hands of a virtuoso
and sing again
beautiful, young, free
with the melody of love
enveloping you....
and fully feel the kiss of desire
returning to your skin ....
