creased skin of his hands turns tan-dark to white
on a sudden line along the lengthy age of fingertips
the pear cups the palm
comes apart between thumb and straight-edge
moving together sharply

desert is the oldest skin
horizon-line cups sun-curve to grain
palm creases and fingerprints
age lengthily
shift granular with the sudden turn
of snowblind to night

see sandy yellow roundness
curved like her hip
into his palm
the pear feeds his age
gives water to the open skins of his life

but he shakes his head
green eyes burnt brown
whisper grainy as fruit flesh
disintegrating against the palette
a name on his lips
too dry to speak
the taste of love
too long left
in the open distance between