A Dress


A dress
Deep chocolate brown
I look in the mirror
Turning this way and that
Flowers creep across cotton
A garden to drape my body
And oh
I know
How the heads of men will turn
Except!
The way it perfectly falls
Showing the swell of my hips
And the slight of my waist,
It does not matter
He is gone
And his head will not turn.

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