Trashed on a Saturday
I found her favorite black dress last night
As I cleaned the Cedar closet
Near on three years since
That strapless number swayed and
It's way into my prom photos,
Holding those soft curves captive
In it's strict unyielding embrace.
Having no host to empower it,
I see the simple shapes that
Held me captive, breath forgotten
Merely a dress now, I pick it up,
Careful with my sleeping lion,
And prepare to throw it far
From my now-personal space.
But I hesitate long, before leaving it
To hang again in silent acknowledgement,
Unable to discard the skin in quite
So cavalier or casual a manner
As I did the one who filled it.
Here and Now