at seventeen her skin was like silk;
smooth and pretty
boys loved running their hands down her arms and legs
strangers on the streets whistled when she walked passed
men would yell, you're a long-legged beauty alright
she wondered if they'd always find her beautiful
if one day she'd remain the long-legged beauty with silk for skin
her mother warned her, "one day you will grow old
just like me
with wrinkles for skin
grey hair
and fat,
so, find a man that thinks your soul is just as beautiful
as the body in which beholds you"
the mother's daughter just shook her head and smiled
waving her words off
at twenty-one she experienced a lot of men rolling around in the sheets with her
some in which clung to her heart
but none stayed long enough to know more than what was on the outside
at thirty-five she finally understood what her mother meant
when she was working late at the bar and a man with curly hair and electric green eyes
grabbed her palm
and took the time to count the lines In them
