Day 3

1.
Dresses are joyous to the person
Who does not wear them often;
In the drape of chocolate rayon, I have a hand on the microphone
Into it breathing, with great precision, the notes of a song
Which burrowed into my heart, months ago
and is only now being given its due.
A single strap over a single shoulder
On a ruffled green gown
Is so provocative, I can feel grass under my soles, damp and dirt-gritty
Bare legs folded, smooth against one another
Prickling in the tepid humidity of an evening after rain
Evening dew, above which the fireflies hover
keeping their own feet dry.
Rich cranberry velvet, bound and draped, accompanied always
by the unfamiliar weight of delicate jewelry
sensitive between collar-bones
Could be the companion of a dinner where the menu says
wonderful, exotic words, and the tasting of things is ceremony
sacred, exhilarating, and decadent.
Deep down, a jeans-and-tee kind of girl, I don't wear 'em:
showy
show-too-much
uncomfortable
garments, but to be someone else for a minute, even
someone else standing in a dim and scruddy Boscov's dressing room
is a small, but happy miracle.

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2.
quildeer

pwoermd?