Women Bathers

Sharon Rashbam Prop

Her age precedes her.
Well ahead of her.
Leaves her wondering, confused,
Far behind.
It overtook her.
Carrying on stains, spots, moles and ruthless excess skin its back.
She recognizes herself only by her still familiar, young and round pupils.
They are no longer together, her and her age.
It does its own thing, responding to greater, natural demands
and she does her own,
Clinging to a different age, when she recognized a fraction of joy, of possibilities, of  freedom.
an age which was a steep decline, an exciting age,
Now suddenly becomes a steep, discouraging climb.
When will they meet each other? When will they dwell in peace again in each other's  body?
When will she ever be satisfied inside who she became?