It’s ok; he looks at her the way all old
men look at beauty.
It is no longer lust.
Not even yearning.
Just a painful appreciation of something
untouchable.
The desire to reach out is no less, to feel
the vibrant force of life.
But it’s as harmless as it is beyond grasp.
Some mistake it as nostalgia for something
lost.
But nothing is missing.
Every moment of every chance remains bright
and present, maybe brighter in memory than it ever was in truth.
ab/121
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