A Red Dress

I wore a red dress;

And it was a glory to behold,

It was red like the night,

As red as coal,

Red like a dying sun.

And it grew on me with the slowness of nature,

Caressing,

Soft as newborn, uncluttered skin,

Reaching velvet tendrils over hard-won skin,

Licking my shoulders with its promise of spice.

 

I wore a red dress.

And I wandered out into the world in it,

Dragonfire bold;

And every eye trailed behind me like magnets,

Every voice contained a whisper

 -Who is that? –

- How can she shine like that? –

- what must her name be? –

Red shoes.

Rubies.

I was the setting sun,

And the sun rising again the next morning.

I was the phoenix; I was the angel with her wings outspread.

 

I wore a red dress.

And of all the eyes, a pair of eyes,

Watching me as I walked.

Eyes as deep as mineshafts,

Eyes cooled by years of patience;

By cloistered, careful experience.

A watery gaze to lap against my fire,

Ice floe against my molten obsidian.

And the dress burns on me,

It flares in his presence.

You will notice me,

You cannot help but see.

Nothing this bright can be properly turned away from.

 

I went home to my room.

I took off a red dress,

And hung it up in my closet,

Amongst these other lesser clothes.

And they reached for it, pressing against it,

Fondling and fawning,

Alive in their jealous affection,

Hungry to hear it tell its news.

And I walked over to the bed,

-White sheets, white pillow-cases, green-and-yellow blankets-

And I lay there in the dark,

Imagining the gaze of two dark eyes,

Imagining what the sound of his voice must be like.

 

Picture credit/discredit: author's own work