Black Dress

No!
Not a sign or hint
of anything underneath.
The men all pause
Women, in silence they stare. 
They dare not to even speak

Of my 4 inch stiletto heels that I wear so well
and this black dress; yes the black dress....
........perhaps casting images of a  golden syrinx from the gates of hell

With an aura that glows brightly
a raging orange flame.
Erotic embers burn
against dark fabric, my buttocks
deliciously strains

Breast uncaptured, rounded,shapely-firm
beautiful face shaped by dark raven hair
A testosterone based fire deep between your legs
Oh yes, I know it burns hot down there

For this "black dress" !
So sad that you don't even see
The mom, the daughter, the sister,
The pain and anguish; the love and the hurts
They too are parts of what is "me"

I'd be quite disingenuous
to say that the "compliments" made
I don't appreciate.

And even the roomful of testosterone driven
"hard woods" boost my self-esteem
and yes that makes me feel absolutely great

But as I walk across this crowded room
My backside keeps a rhythm
That hangs you on the edge of your seat
The bounce of buoyant breast
and every perfect tress
Of my hair-sexy stillettos upon sensuous feet

Still remember this one thing
As with lyrid eyes you long to undress.......
In all you think or feel or see
I am so much more than this
Black dress.