The Dress

Written by: Heather Ober

Slinky green silk cut dangerously high. 
Skin pale as milk; a glimpse of white thigh.
Swinging and clinging to hips that sway,
Thin fabric skimming; legs on display.

Shining gold hair, swept up in soft waves.
Florid yet fair: bare shoulders, smooth planes.
Sending bold glances, sneaking smug smiles,
Dangling chances with feminine wiles.
 
I must confess, without guilt or regret,
I wore this dress just to make you sweat.
I must confess, this is all a ruse -
I wore this dress just to torture you.