Those That Die And Wilt And Wrinkle Poem by RIC BASTASA

those that die
like the flesh
and wilt like
your skin
and wrinkle
like your hands

these are not
i love
these are not
the reasons
why i am
with you

these do not die:
wit and humor
rumors, stories,
thoughts,
memories at the
park
disco nights
and candle-lit dinners
and strolling
at the boulevard
and pinches
and kisses
sleeping with you
and waking up
with you

these do not die
and these are what
i love with you