Even when we're old and wrinkled,
we will still waste all of our
retirement money on Hot Topic.
And laugh with rich but
soft leathery laughs, and
laugh upon the times when
I would hurt myself, and
laugh upon the times when
I said I hate you to every
boy I ever met almost and
smile upon us running
in the rain and me learning
how to pee outside yet still
failing at it.
That will be the life.
Where our husbands stop asking
us when we'll be home and
yet we still come home and
lay by their old and wrinkled skin.
That was once smooth and beautiful,
and kiss their cheek goodnight
and hug them as we fall
into a light slumber.
That. Will be the life.
