Her wrinkles shine,
with every frown she takes.
An older woman they said,
but make no mistake,
like fine wine,
wrinkles full of life.
Face full of living,
glistening and shining,
marks of an existence,
time spent on the surface,
without any resistance,
I approach her.
I stare down into her soul,
and her into mine,
youth and age,
bundled up into a shrine,
beams erupting from the glares,
as we continue to stare,
down the rabbit hole.
I will never forget her frowns,
her sighs,
and especially her wrinkles.