Your Dress

As I did laundry the other day I uncovered one of your dresses, the thin, sleeveless, tan colored floor length one with the thick black stripes. I found it in the pile under at the base of the shoot. It caught me by surprise, as I bent over to pick it up I was stricken by the site of you in it. I could smell your presence, I lifted it to my face and breathed in deeply, images of you flowed through me. I could see your face highlighted by the light of a golden, late afternoon sun. I closed my eyes and sat there on the floor under the stairs.

I caressed my cheek with your dress. I let the aroma of you wash over me, it was pleasant, warm, and sexy and it was you. My mind raced to the last time I’d seen you in it, how I loved the way it hung on you, how it hugged your beautiful hips, exposing your sculpted, freckled, feminine shoulders. I loved how it framed your toned, soft upper chest.

I pictured walking with you and holding your hand. I pictured looking over at you walking beside me and wondering how lucky I was. And how wonderfully your dark hair cascaded around your cheekbones and lay upon the back of your neck.. Your smile would outshine the sun, and you would stare back at me, lower your eyes just a tad and form a slight, humble smirk from the corner of your mouth. Your lips pursed making my heart pause.

I couldn’t wash it, I wanted to stow it away someplace safe so I could revisit it again at another time when I was feeling lonely and scared. You have always given me such strength, such resolve in the human spirit. I knew I could always depend on you to renew my faith in people, so long as you were around, the world would be a brighter, more compassionate, empathetic place to me. But I laid it back on the floor where I found it, and walked away. For now, on me, your scent would remain, and I would enjoy it for the evening.


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