THE DRESS


It cost the earth,
an outrageous slip
of shapeless silk,
mere slick of colour
that took three goes
to work out which way
to put it on.

Our eyes smiled, exchanged
frivolities to cover the waiter’s
fumbling with an obstinate cork,
wine’s rosy flow reflecting then
between collar and chin
as he poured.

How I envied the ragout
it’s ruby fleck strayed
to your glistening cheek,
the napkin’s starched pleats melting
to soft folds in your warm lap.

Slow dance of spoons
smooched through shared dessert;
long-tongued flames teased
scent’s heady confection couched
later within four-poster drapes.

Loose-buttoned layers, misleading straps –
pretending we knew what we were doing;
pretending we didn’t.

Giving up. Eventually.

Now just a crumpled bandeau
wreathing my dewy belly,
the dress with its gloating price tag
grins at us intact:

“But worth it” merged figures agree.