Overslept

I remember watching all those women desperately trying to catch their dripping youth. Tapping, smudging, massaging all kinds of miraculous liquids advertised by grinning ladies with blocked face nerves. I would smirk, grab a bar of chocolate and go outside with no cream on, no hat, no gloves, no worries, pitting them a little. Those lazy women, who stopped and overslept. I think of karma now that I stand naked in front of a mirror with my face glowing from rose oil, stretching my cheeks as if it could stop them from falling into the arms of time. Funny, how the older you get the more interest gravity takes in you.