To the Prom Dress in My Closet

I'm sorry I'll never wear you.

I'm sorry you'll never get to swirl
and twirl across
a glittered dance floor.

I'm sorry The Boy will never get
to hold you close,
or try to rip you off me.

I'm sorry you won't be
a crumpled heap
on the floor of his pick-up.

I'm sorry you'll never
see the moonlight
across the glistening waters.

I'm sorry you'll never
have your picture taken,
his hand on your hip; our hip.

I'm sorry he'll never see you on me,
the way you hug my waist,
and barely brush my thighs,
taking his breath away

I'm sorry I'll never wear you.