Greys

-My lovers' got greys. Silver falls down like a river, or perhaps a waterfall. No colour remains in those silver strands, just clean white with a touch of silver grey.

-My lover takes pride in those silver streaks, those white hairs, those grey locks. The smile that overtakes the face is priceless. It fills my heart is joy.

-My lover's grinning at my greys. Thin silver hairs pop up from my colouful hair. I gigle, for those whites' match my lovers' hair.

-As the days pass, more and more greys appear, mostly due to age. I am not as young as I once was. Nothing can be done about that.

-My lover adores my hair, nuzzles into it. I can feel shoulds relax, hear breaths calming down. I see a glee little smile, a chuckle rising from the deep.

-Time goes as always, my hair goes whiter with it. My lover gigles out:" We are almost alike!" I gigle too, because I love that smile, that gigle.

-Nowadays, my hair is as grey as my lovers. Matching, dare I say. Silver falling down like a river. Age comes to us both, and that's all right, for my lover is just by my side...