they measure years in the grey of hair

tyres at the waisteline

dark circles under eyes

cut of the torusers

bulge at the bosom in blouse

 

they measure passion in

the colours brushed on cheeks

blued eyelashes

pencil kohled eyes

lined and filled lips

 

together they run amuck

in circles

to arrive nowhere

the post of their youth

that wishful fulfilled arrival has long passed

the passage to the valley of flowers

has passed

unannounced

untouched

and they run amuck causing wishful thinking

to count years

in dyed hair

hung over implants.