My blue eys

now house a pair

of aliens

made of plastic

designed to be pupils

to a new master mind

my teeth have

crown by crown

been exchanged for

ceramic lookalikes

my hair has changed color

my knees protest against movement

my face has furrows

deep enough for Idaho potatoes

but inside of all

that crappy framework

lives a younger, better, wiser man

and not a single part

has been removed

from the essential me

I move slower by default

but I think quicker on my feet

only my speech is a tad slower

the thoughts have deeper runs

to leave before exit 

into the fading light