same moon, same stars

for decades, through a lifetime of friendship, they have been mistaken for sisters.
in their young days, approached, asked outright, they would smile mysteriously and tilt toward each other, blushing, coy.
that tentative assumption has become, with the passing of time, their routine and their comfort.
they still lean. they are aged and elegant, white curls frivolous above powdered cheeks, collars and cuffs starched, backs straight and stately. one is slightly better-preserved than the other; neither notices.
they are companions.
they have lived - and loved - their days, and done their fading duty, side by side.