The fit was perfect.
Lovely to slip into. The dress was sheer.
Flawless
Until an embroidery got caught on my wrist. Like the damnedest thing.
Really, even the small dots
That formed
And pricked my skin
A reminder if I had married you
that day
when we ran around devouring the world
I would have worn a black dress
It would not bleed through
Much easier to burn
The Literary Misadventures of Cielo 