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A pair of stays to bind in fashion,

Stiff bodice lift those ample *******,

French sophistication and ***** south,

Linen lines taken from the robin's nests.




Once seen in times known to all Baroque,

Steel cages more true to the name,

Renaissance blushed at the very sight,

This hidden and blustering shame.




Georgian era was always that late,

Yet women united to sheer the skin,

Frills and cuffs were the new bloom,

The dowdy apron given to the bin.




Victorian, Edwardian seen a rise of empire,

When romance boasts the whale bone done,

Now scattered in all weddings and burlesque,

Dear Corset is set in memory to run and run.
Just my take on women's fashion through the ages, well one small part of it anyway - have fun!
A pair of stays to bind in fashion,

Stiff bodice lift those ample *******,

French sophistication and ***** south,

Linen lines taken from the robin's nests.




Once seen in times known to all Baroque,

Steel cages more true to the name,

Renaissance blushed at the very sight,

This hidden and blustering shame.




Georgian era was always that late,

Yet women united to sheer the skin,

Frills and cuffs were the new bloom,

The dowdy apron given to the bin.




Victorian, Edwardian seen a rise of empire,

When romance boasts the whale bone done,

Now scattered in all weddings and burlesque,

Dear Corset is set in memory to run and run.
a look at the binds of fashion
Leal Knowone Apr 2015
He wore a velvet vest in a sharp side of town,
her crimson lips were enough to get him aroused,
it was her corset that would bring him down.
with **** and hips that over fill her gown
she wants to dance she wants to get down,
she walks so elegantly through the ruff parts of town
You want so much for her to know you now
but its something your insecurities wont allow

I gathered the courage maybe a bit to soon
giving me your soul in a dark candle light room
as you smell the rose peddles all around you
and all the other flowers in brought you in bloom
I never knew this time my words would swoon
I was wrapped around your finger like string in the loom
telling each other secrets, of all our fears and our doom
like the horror of your womb, and the life it once knew

my finger prints on your body, and on you immaculate gown
I made you dripping wet, even though I played the clown
smile on your face, joy on your body. leaving me in wow
I may not be stable, yet I thought we were on solid ground
our days growing numbered, and the love is winding down  
strong love can still slumber, even if its world renown
you find solace in the heart of your possessions now  
I ask you many things, such as to wear my crown

safe mental state left behind,remembering our vows
it made you feel so high to tell me I was low brow
we shared each others toa,yet we walk different paths now
truth should always be found, even if it causes pain somehow

I realized it was a dream within my mind
dreams become reality, if your not so blind  
dreams can become nightmares if given time
you were my promise of perfection, souls intertwined
but true perfection can only live within ones mind

I saw such wisdom when I looked into your eyes
you said you saw it in me too, but it may have been a lie
I guess we wont see each other old and wrinkled as we die
horrible thoughts multiply in a morbid mind

I still have that velvet vest, and wear it now and then
press it to my chest, close to my heart, like a friend
I tried to leave you, there was many messages to send
you tried to leave me, and my ignorance I defend

I tried to leave you satisfied, tried to leave you satisfied
the pledges that were made, and the hate we hide behind
thought I never heard the things you said as you softly cried
you never thought id listen well I even read between the lines

I am so vexed we never think of the wages of ***
the chains you fasten to me slowly broke me down
your hands hastened down, and you still want a slave now
I hope you get what you want, on the way to the next now
Tiffany Nelson May 2014
I wake up in the morning questioning the infinite cracks on my bedroom ceiling. There is a crack up there for each time you leave. I ask them if they know the reasons as to why I feel undone. The foundation of the room searches for an answer in its faults only to find that behind the paint lies nothing but rotting wood. I feel naked. A resting foreigner on the bed that I made as I lay fully clothed in a nightgown I can feel settling into my skin. I feel ill. ***** settles on my tongue the same way spit does when your mouth waters for something you long for. Some mornings my body becomes a corset that relies on you to tie the knots and by the afternoon I find myself stranded in tangled knots of indented flesh and exhaustion.

— The End —