Hmm have at it. C4C


The sweat drops off my lower lip,
Laying limp in the cove 'tween my toes.
My eyes; they drift oh so softly,
only to fixate a curious sight.
Such an ambuguity to me,
Feet offset, yet perfectly alligned.
Wrinkles fold atop your skin and,
The stalactites growing like grass,
are sprouting out from your chin.
Your brows augment your eyes,
With limbs branching leaves, wide.
And then something occours.
Your complexion grows grey,
And the dust from you hair blows,
Your smile begins to grow wide,
the skin streched taut on your face.
The wind whips and chafes you,
And in the blink of an eye,
In the breadth of a breath,
You fade into the sky.