My mother's old blue dress
Skinny straps, holding you up as you
Spin. The dress was made for spinning.
For sending white sparks into the universe
As they fly off the flimsy fabric folds.
My mother wore it, before me
In a life I'll never live, but will know.
The dress is mine now, but sometimes
It's a little too big - made for a body
That is not mine. But the looseness is comfortable
it gives me room
To breathe in the scent of dizziness that the dress felt once before.
I don't often wear it, but when I do, I always
Spin, just a little, to satiate the polka dots.
I do actually have this blue polka dot dress hanging in my cupboard - I can see it right now! One day, I'll wear it to a polka dot party.