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.
