That Dress
I saw you,
before you noticed me and smiled;
I watched
for a moment.
I saw the way the coloured lights
caressed your curves.
Wine glass in hand, your
lipstick shade- the glass wears it well.
And your long hair:
red, brown, black,
nestled softly against your back.
And that dress,
the dress that clung to your
shape and tugged around
your chest.
Your bare sholders.
The tattoo along your spine.
A laddered stocking
reaching up to your thigh,
running further than my
eyes are permitted.
By Beckie
© 2008 Beckie
(All rights reserved)
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