Girl In a Green Velvet Dress
Maybe it was the way her lips pouted so -
Full, inviting beneath vacant eyes;
Perhaps it was the leonine way she strolled,
Like a beast without mind,
All power, proud but unreflective.
More likely, though, it was the dress,
That jungle-green velvet that rode her
Tight and high like a desperate caress
Revealing much more than nakedness would"ve
The dress, that held her, reflecting cool light
From video machines
Giving off waves of visceral potential -
It called my eyes back, time and again,
Speaking volumes in an animal tongue
Addressed to the animal crouched within me;
The two conversed without knowledge or distraction
Holding conclave for some moments
Before she disappeared.
What they said to one another left me burning,
A willing slave to feral dreams
Days and nights thereafter.
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