when you put dry shampoo
in your hair
and it turns the roots gray
i think of you
in old age
with wrinkles and laugh lines
and stretch marks,
all sagging and pulling
and evidence that you’ve lived,
and i want to be there.

i heard that the nose keeps growing
even when the rest of you stops
so when i kiss the tip of your nose
i think of you
in old age
nose longer,
rounder still,
and i kiss it a million times more.

when i kissed you on the forehead before work this morning
for the last time,
at least,
for a long time,
i thought of you
in old age
after i’ll have kissed your sleepy face before work
for decades
but now we’d be retired,
resigned to sleeping in,
to kissing each other awake,
since i think that’s what old people
do.

so when you leave tomorrow
and i kiss you for the last time,
at least,
for a long time,
i hope you come back to me.
because i cannot think of myself
in old age
without you by my side.