My names are not important, nor his. I am a mystery he has loved for years. We swim in the sea together like twins in a womb. When he forgets that I am present within him, there is no joy or laughter in his life.
I feel warmth from the sun and a breeze from the sea that brushes the curtains against my skin. He tells me Winter will be here soon. But I am indifferent to hours and afternoons. Days pass into years without my notice or care. The towers above the cliffs will crumble into specks of powder and drift in the wind. The cliffs will plummet back into the sea.
I am beyond passing. My hair has never lost its glow. My waist will not thicken, my breasts will never sag, my beauty does not fade. He will die, like all my loves. I will not. I am as old as I will ever be.