Christ, you were hot back then.
You were so tough-looking
so evolved, compared to me.
You knew where the bodies were buried
and was vibrant enough
to have dug them in.
There was rubber in your moves
elastic in your skin
a hard shellac over your feelings
and product in your hair.
You were all right.

You were something, then
before years and gravity and weight
and death and life
pulled you so close
to those buried bodies
and you became monochrome
after such a colorful history.
You were amazing
before you got old.

Happy birthday,
big old girl.
Remember yourself
in the days you were impressive.