As the decades pass and we grow grey,
it will not matter. We will have been here,
wildly burning beacons in a sea of dissolution,
scorch marks left on hidden islands
only we have names for.

Time is motionless;
the now mutates.

I dared to love you, naked and exposed,
spread wide like a map for you to wander,
no continents hidden, all rivers running clear.
I exposed all fault lines, you braved every quake.
For this, I owe you everything.

The secrets reveal themselves
when eyes conceal themselves.

Once, in my final time, I want to find you,
silent on the porch, facing the ocean. Your hair,
white and speckled grey, untamed as your eyes,
flying free against the wind in relentless rebellion.
I will slip my crowlike fingers round your waist
where they are home, and I will quietly whisper
"What a life."

And time will swallow us like the sun.