i was beautiful, she says

i was young once, the woman

tells me.

can you believe that?

i do, i tell her.

i do believe that.

i was beautiful, she says.

my hair was black.

my skin golden.

if you could have seen me

then, she says.

men would turn their heads

and whistle

when i walked down

the street.

i was beautiful, she says,

squinting her blue eyes,

pushing her silver hair back.

i was beautiful once,

she says again, staring at me.

you still are, i tell her.

you still are. no worries.