I can tell that that dress makes you feel good.
It swishes just above your knees, mimicking the waves in the ocean that you love to wade in during the summer.
It slides over your waist like the hands of the one that you wished loved you back.
It hugs tightly below your chest like an embrace from an old friend.
And it traces over your collarbones like the fingers of lovers past.
I never thought that I’d be jealous of a dress. But maybe someday I could make you feel even better than that dress. I’d like to think so.
If I say you are beautiful,
