Star Stealer

I knew her when her body was lithe, face unlined.
She was a fairy-tale princess, her long wavy hair
golden brown, shimmered like spun silk in sunlight;
her pale, jade eyes revealing a world of expectation.
Her lips were full and bow shaped...too exquisite.
No one had ever worn a prom dress the way she did.
Even though she gave it to me to wear to my prom
I never felt I could do it justice after it was worn by her.
 
I still hear her lyrical laughter on Carolina breezes
and picture all the boys who jockeyed to be near her
on hot, lightning bug evenings at ice cream parties.
She was the mischievous one, who taught me lessons
on how to dance, how to flirt and how to be girlish.
She had a shirt that read, “If you are the man
my mother warned me about, come sit next to me.”
We laughed about that shirt the last time I saw her.
 
She died a month ago, my beautiful cousin, full of life.
Old but not nearly old enough to die, she died too soon.
She burned the candle at both ends and never being
satisfied with just smelling the roses she drank them,
then, inebriated from their intrepid, intoxicating wine,
she blew the sweet breath of aliveness into the world.
She was a moon dancer, mirth birther, unique creature
stealing a star or two on her way to another world.