I'm not a poet, but...

Tonight, let us go there one last time
to where the rooftop's majesty scrapes cloud from
a faceless moon.

Tonight, let us pass unnoticed, not wearing
robes or painted armor.

Let's go to Mars and mine the reddish sands for gold,
for the wanton treasures of space.

Let's forget about mirrors for a moment
and insist on being children.

The other day I was looking at a photo album with my boyfriend's niece, who is two years old. There were some really old pictures of me in there. I was trying to explain to Juliana that that little girl was actually me...she seemed not to believe me. I wonder at what age a person starts to realize that people age? When I was younger I remember thinking that kids were "kids" and grownups were "grownups": not creatures at different stages of development, but enitirely disparate species.

I wish I could remember what it was like to be immortal. Oh well, all my radical ideas about immortality and aging (or lack thereof) have certainly occurred to others.