let's grow old

Let’s not shave our body hair
and grow old together in an old farmhouse
where the petals blow across our porch in the spring
and leaves blow across it in the fall
we’ll sit on a swing
with an old quilt wrapped around us
and maybe we’ll be smoking cigarettes
and there will be a candle on a wicker table
I’d make our clothes myself
and you’d chop wood for the fire
and together we’d watch the seasons change
our hair will grow gray
and we’ll think of dying
and mourn for every beautiful moment that has already passed
but I’ll grab your hand
and we’ll stare at the vast emptiness before us
and from our front porch,
we’ll see into eternity.