once I was afraid of aging
I thought it would be better
to stay
safe
untouched
unblemished
in innocence
with the crookedness of one tooth
and the plush arms of many
false relations.

now I see
that the papery skin
falling closer to bones
is home to reality.
brittle truth
the things no one can eat anymore
the ways we make stuff upright
the accumulation of god Knows,
really,
Gnowledge of everything

which
after all
is why we are
here

to make wrinkles in the sun
on the wood
by the water
to make waves
and delight in the vibration
of terrifying life.