she has known me since my kids were infants, toddlers.
she saw me through two divorces, even though she had officiated
for the second wedding. to a narcisstic womanizer.
that one ended
and we both celebrated the ending once I stopped crying.
and tonight we have two drinks each and talk about her
kids who are now, presumably, adults, not really.
and I have witnessed her divorces and her babies grow
to adulthood, kind of,
and we can laugh and compare wrinkles and talk about
the botox that we haven't had yet, or never, and the women who have
who look younger, maybe, than us, but rather
is that better.
she is still so beautiful and she claims I will always
look young, and that my long hair suits me, why not,
we can do what we want,
and why not.
I saw a woman in the airport a few years ago,
she had long silvery grey hair and as I passed her
I admired her slim body in jeans and a sweater and
her freckles and I knew I wanted to look like her
when I was that age.
and my friend will still have chiseled cheek bones
and beautiful layered hair that hides her big ears,
of which she is self conscious.
we will laugh at the escapes of our 50 something
kids, who maybe have still not grown up.
Casablanca: A City Nothing Like the Film
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