Measurement

She comes in beauty
She walks in flesh
Her eyes probing
In my tailor’s made nest

Her fingers brim of gold
Which drip onto the clutch
She orders a dress of red
Stitched with roses in a bunch

She owns the day
The dress looks for her stay
I will make her a dress of flesh
That will make a day out of May

The day yields to night
She comes attired, burning bright
The dress, a drape of burning embers
She is fire, a bonfire of flickers