The full skirt
floats in the air
to slow down
time, like an ambulant thought.

Worn,
made more valuable still
moon-silver silk
that rises, stands
as if some force
       from an old, unfailing source,
had come out of the closet...
to meet her.

Standing, only waiting
for her to be the heartbeat
         beneath the skin,
the structure that embraces,
         the reality of her soul.
Its charm goes beyond the print,
lives in its fabric,
lets the woman shine
as it reflects her authenticity
to the world.

And there, in her living space, up above the city,
she sees the light slowly warm the wooden floor,
its sweet caramel-orange hues
surround her bare feet.

   Soon, she'll be offshore:
nothing - no one can drown that smile
when she lets the dress
kiss her shoulders, caress her breasts,
gently surround her waist
and dance on her hips...
she tiptoes
lifts her arms up
like confident candles.

She redeemed her ship,
set her sails
- for her deepest love - intact
is priceless and... not for sale!

As she approaches the freedom
                        of her open sea,
the waves are lifted, like a brocade curtain,
and beyond, the sea is quietly moving
      natural, organic,
like the mineral color of the silk
that comforts and cools
her animal warmth
and she is the captain of her vessel
                      in her best, old dress.