Quietly Spoken

Could you imagine living your life to one hundred and forty? Or some insane age which you question the ability to even get up in the morning? Not what I've set out to do. But more often then not I wake up with a old mind. Thoughts spoken in preamble during the night breaking into my own dawn. At this thought I couldn't remove myself from the ideal that my body will follow, someday, behind my mind, in becoming very old.Don't get me wrong, I cherish my mind over all other things. Great leaps beyond the limits of sharing my physical body with someone. Unless of course they choose sleeping with me. I purr to that thought. Now, and more then likely forever. At least until the day before I die. Which I will know when it is, and I will wish I could run the memories of my youth with these two legs. Watch, the clouds will never really go away. In fact, sink in, and become a more set haze.