If I acted as my age might dictate, I would never have had you, this gap of years making me year for what should not have been, and now, when all this has passed and you have gone, yearning all the more for it, falling to pieces like no man my age should, aching to kiss your moth, run my tongue down your soft arms or neck, to caress breasts and elsewhere, to kiss each eye lid as if I could taste what resides behind those eyes, the mystery of a universe I could never have understood at an age when all this might have been more appropriate, when even now at the age I’ve reached, I fail to comprehend the complexity of who you are, or all those potent thoughts I could never reach unless I climbed inside you, pushing part of me deep inside you, to feel what it feels like on the inside, and maybe learning what I could never have learned had we met hen I was as young as you, and you as old as you ae now. I cannot, will not, and never will act my age when it comes to you, needing to have it all, an agelessness time alone can endure
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