blue dress

i can see through the blue
dress when you stand
in the doorway; the light
come indoors softly like

a cat between your legs
when you walk and
the dress flows
over the curved pebble

of your belly into
the blue pool my eye
is already there
waiting for the ripple

i have the echo
in my own dark waters
it is an old dress
and it knows how to touch

a breast as a hand would
if it could stay
all day and not get
overheated; when you bend

down and the dress
runs up your legs
it is certainly doing
what a hand would

not that i like the dress
it has its own play
but when the hand comes
the dress gets in the way