Like all things do
wrinkles have a secret life
they multiply in drawers
in closets
on faces
across time
when the cold weather comes
and they soften with movement
with sunlight
with the warmth of a caress
guiding them onto a single plane
on linen they flatten out
under the searing heat
of an iron belching steam.
Wrinkles contract and release
like a heart beating
like a bellow fanning flames
like hands clasping and letting go.
Wrinkles disappear and reappear
and sometimes
come to stay in the thoughtful furrow of your brow
or they deepen like moonbeams
that have traced the vectors of the light
twinkling in your eyes again and again.
Where there is life
there are wrinkles
moving of their own volition
in a dance
with time, heat, movement, humidity and light...
—Lorena Wolfman
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