dreams of 'old'

for who is it more challenging to let go?

the man whose body once made of iron
muscular but lean and handsomeness
myth be told of chiseled cheek and jaw
and hair of onyx

or

a woman whose body curves when lying

on the beach would cause the sun to take
one last glimpse as it nested into the horizon.
her eyes and lashes fluttering, her silken skin
and wondrous bosom with lovely shapely legs
of milk and silken skin glisten in a starry night   

but

probably better said by Miquel de Uno Muno,

writing about the following;  
we wish to be taken seriously being recognized by
the complexity of our makeup, though we must
remember, while we live in this mundane existence
we are encapsulated in a shell made of skin and bone,
therefore, beauty  (in the eye of the beholder) and
sex are integral to our character for that is what we
learn to see, to touch, to feel, to love.

in our youthful naiveté, we would, oh, so carelessly

and unabashedly assert that we are more than
just body and ‘beauty is only skin deep’. we would
profess that we had exercised our minds equally
so please don’t peer at my beauty. now that time
has so quickly lapsed and the body walks at a slower
step, the eyes see through a fog and no one peers
at with the same desire, the question arises: of
whom, man or woman,  does willingness come more
readily to accept the passing of time, aging?

Desiderata; ‘…take kindly the counsel of the years,

                         gracefully surrendering the things of youth ‘