Red dress

Red Dress

I am a red dress,
I hang proudly in my owner’s wardrobe.
I shimmer with glam,
My presence makes the wardrobe enchanted.
I am hanging there,
With the beauty of red hot lava.
My owner loves me,
I am her favourite one.
She puts me on and,
Stands before the mirror.
I make her look like a woman of,
Billion dollars.
Every cleavage of her body,
Starts to show off.
Her breasts start to seduce,
Her waist welcomes embraces.
Inside me, her body feels cosy,
She becomes a queen of beauty.

I am the red dress on my owner,
I can feel her heartbeats are racing fast.
She walks through the crowd,
She stops and she turns.
She questions - is this a right place,
To wear a red dress ?
Who are these people ,
What is actually happening ?
Is this a secret meeting place,
Lots of whispers fill the place.
I am the red dress,
My owner owns.
I am shimmering I am glowing,
Under the multi tier chandelier.

In the farthest corner of the place,
I can see a velvety blue robe,
Hanging majestically on a proud prince.
He turns and he sees the princess,
In the glistening red dress.
They start to approach and they collide,
They glance and they hold hands.
They dance- the dance of the river Nile,
Lights glimmer, lights sparkle, lights glitter.
Then comes the end,
All is dark- no blue, no red - just grey.

I am still residing in my owner’s wardrobe,
I am still that glam red dress.
It seems like many decades have passed,
I haven’t felt my owner’s heart beats.
She hasn’t put me on and stand,
Before the mirror to admire herself.
The beauty queen in the red dress ,
No longer exists.
She has died inside,
She wears a blue dress instead.

By atreyi