Scandal in a Dress

Wrapped in a fabric–

Or is it fabrication?

Her cloak of silk suspicion

That taunts imagination.

Not a word behind her smile,

Only a whisper to the air,

Yet her silence has me caught

In the darkness of her hair.

So shall she take me, this

Scandal in a dress?

I cannot allow it.

I will not say yes.

But what of the dances,

The footsteps into hell?

A flirtation with forever

Only a lady knows so well.

So if the dances be our end,

May the dances be our best,

For I will gladly take her hand, this

Scandal in a dress.

This poem is about: 
Me

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