Blue nightgown, you’ve served me well. <br />With your delicate white flowers <br />and flirtation with maidenhood, <br />you gave me many nights <br />of womanly repose. <br /> <br />They told me how they loved you, <br />that you made me look deliciously <br />enticing; I kept you close <br />on hungry, lightning-charged nights, <br />a scrumptious tart in a florid, <br />ribboned box. <br /> <br />Blue nightgown, you were short <br />and sweet. On breathy December <br />eves, you did nothing to heat me, <br />yet somehow I slept soundly, <br />feeling safe and perfect-porridge warm. <br /> <br />With the sweat of July midnights, <br />as you kissed and hugged my shape, <br />I still felt the breeze and its <br />light freedoms, as I glistened <br />and simmered under the moonlight. <br /> <br />Blue nightgown, you puffed me up <br />and bore me intuition. <br />As you guided me through the bedroom <br />I learned to fill the waiting hearts, <br />and how to let them fill me. <br />In you, I was tall and lithe, <br />moving balletic, like <br />a careful, cool gazelle. <br /> <br />But… <br /> <br />Now, you seem smaller, <br />less lush with your pretty, <br />pure poesy, and the buttons <br />are hanging by the <br />thinnest of threads. <br />My legs are now rounder, <br />like spongecake, or suet, <br />or pink water-filled balloons. <br />Your power bleeds <br />its colour all over the floor. <br />The spell has puddled <br />at my feet. <br /> <br />In you, <br />I lumber and shake, <br />simper and quake, <br />fading like the flowers <br />that once made me bloom. <br /> <br />Blue nightgown, <br />you don’t fit me <br />anymore.<br /><br />Tara Teeling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blue-nightgown/
