The Real Question

When all is said and done

when my fingers are stuck

curled and crippled

in clawed curvature

aged and arthrithic


when my breasts

flesh flattened and flaccid

hang and droop

tumbling out against

my wrinkled waist


when my eyes

clouded and closed

squinting up and away

barely grasping images

too youthful

too fast

too unknown


when every aspect

of my physical being

is falling into disrepair

has become completely

and utterly



When my mind is a junkyard

full with bits of broken memories

imagined slights

pockets of mucked mire

where all fond remembrances

have drowned and disappeared

pits of putrescence

where once

was living thought


When all is said and done

in our life


This life

which we are sharing


Will you still stand by my side?

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