The picture hangs on a fading wall.
From the time they were born, they could never die
And only her image has filled his eyes.
How they have grown so fast, so old.
He says, “You don’t look as bad as I do.”
She answers him always with a smile.
“Remember the rude hands that poked at me, here?
Remember how they laughed?”
He remembers nothing but her face,
her worldly look and her slender waist
that gathers her white legs in
while her arms are held out to him.