The fabric touches my skin as it kisses me with lace

This silk feels as if painted on with the reels of thread

Hanging just a touch below my knees

This dress flatters me in my best areas

And sings to my soul as the color is so bold

Neatly claiming me as it suits my attire

In a much higher fashion

Than the current

And my passion is being

In front of the mirror

Conceding that this must be conceit

Watching myself as I smile


Posted by in Poetry