The Trade

There is a peace once you reach a certain age, I'm told.

Some days, I feel as though I have made love to that peace.

My arms and my legs have intertwined and caressed a depth of confidence and joy that I did not know when I was younger.

My war-ravaged heart has mended through years of kindness and grace.

My love has kissed the peace that the old crones promise in their whispers, when you listen.

My body is excited to feel this peace deepen and permeate as time pulls at my physical beauty and replaces it with wisdom, confidence, and zen.

This is a fair trade.