boldly do we stand
next to each other
wearing last seasons colours
but we're holding hands

It doesn't matter

that we couldn't dress
to this years fashion
or hide our blemishes
we dress with passion
we've escaped to our own
private place, a secluded island
where the clothes we've shed
lay as rags, they no longer matter

I stand before you
unadorned by Lace
or Satin, nor Ribbons
just Skin, and Lust
just a body, and face
that adores you
without a trace
of tattered rags
or Princess dress
naked before you
*I look my best