That is her Silhouette,
Awakening from its dream,
Voluptuously elegant,
in its romance,
As she gazes,
Through the clouds,
For some solace of moon and stars,
She loosens her vintage corset,
She wore sweetly,
As roses wear the moonlight,
Her delightfulness,
Cool as jazz crescendos,
And warm as crescent blooms,
Woman worn of corsets,
Like midnight piers,
Are worn of the evening rain,
I would keep your Beau
