The Old Red Dress

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Dirty secrets hidden at the back
Where thigh tingling hems skimmed brown flesh
And sensual hands shifted silk over head
A red dress crumpled on a bed

Sensible knee length neighbours
Await open doors to the usual places
Jilted red dress remains in the dark
Hoping for some reignited spark

Escapes the inner confinements
Clinging to an old friend’s skin
Alluring scents of way back then
And the butterflies dance again

11 thoughts on “The Old Red Dress

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