then it hung in her closet
smelling sweet as smoke and champagne,
soft as curls in candlelight
In that dress, she was magic
Smooth as silk, lovely as lace
Daring as the plunging neckline
and high as her hemline
She woke to it crumpled by her bed,
touched it softly her a first love,
and layed it gently away, till on the hard days
she would open her closet, and breathed in the night
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