Little girls are sugar and spice,
sweet right to the core.
Old women are still little girls
and ever so much more.
Vinegar, sand, dirt and wine
slide through our cobweb veins.
Gold and silver and titanium pins
will litter our remains.
We are made of spiderwebs,
aches and pains and frost,
milk and honey, wind and rain
and memories that are lost.
Our hair is made of starlight,
each eye, a crystal ball.
Our mouths are full of lies and truths
and we will tell them all.
The spots and scars upon our skin
are code for what we know.
The lines and wrinkles on each face
map out where we will go.
Sugar and spice is for the young
who've yet to open life's door.
Old women who've lived and loved and cried,
are made of so much more.
---Sappho---
