AGE OF GOLD

AGE OF GOLD!!!

When you meet with a drunk old man, or just a sober old man with ash hair and wrinkled eyes.
Eyes that gave up dreaming of tomorrow; long before he knew that it came.
He’ll stare at you and you’ll remind him of his days. He’ll smile nostalgically as his eyes shine sadistically with hope. He’ll tell you of his younger days; where he was when he was at your age; the places he visited; people he met; his regrets. He’ll tell you all of these, not that he has to. But ’cause in you he sees the younger him.

Whence he sees you with a girl; a pretty girl; holding hands as you walk along the streets side by side. He’ll look at the both of you and reminisce of his younger days. He’ll smile at himself and be on his way. He won’t tell you but to himself he’ll want to relive his days. Whence he burnt hearts of women in his youth. He was a horse. Fairy. With strength that ferociously delve beneath sweat of women. A lover he was.

So I sat along the highway with my girlfriend; on her birthday waiting for a sun set in her dovish eyes. We kissed once. Twice. One too many times. She rested on my maim. Staring at the clouds listening to stories of old. In that moment, I thought about the age of old. She smiled; not knowing what lied in my mind. But her eyes shone with flares of gold. As the sun set in her eyes. I made a wish. To spend the age of gold with her. To die reminiscing of our youth not to strangers but with ourselves.

“I love you” I said.

Heart_Art_Poetics
Phill Ibsen
( Master Of Descriptions )
2017