DREAM OF THE PINK AND BLACK LACE, JUST LIKE THE EVENING GOWN
my favorite in high school, a dress I'd waited to see marked down and finally wrote the store, even then, able to get what I wanted
more easily on paper. I told them how often I'd come back, hoping it would be marked down and dashed up with my mother when they agreed to lower the price.
I feel the swirl of those gowns I ran my hand through, terrified mine wouldn't be there, then carrying it as carefully as a baby of blown glass.
It was so full my waist looked tiny inside it with hoops and an eyelet bustier. The dress took up half my mother's closet,
less space than I did in her, especially after she had me. I don't think I wore it again, too dressy, too much lace to pack. But I can see it near the yellow
and the pink and white gauzy gowns, swirling strapless, a part of 38 Main Street I expected to always be as it was, like my mother, waiting for me to fill it
BLUE VELVET PILLOWS
and how they smelled with frost all over in the mountains
And yes especially of that time on the floor looking like the middle part of a thick leggy bug I could
just see above my belly, moist and floating up asked
is this making your blood glow