You wore your new dress tonight,
the one we picked out at the mall last weekend,
the day of the summer solstice.
I can see us standing there before the mirror,
you turning this way and that to make sure it was the right fit.
Even on first sight, I loved everything about that dress.
The way it hung, simple but elegant, without trying
to be more than what it was. I loved that chalky shade of blue,
and the way the short skirt flared, and the graceful flourish of the straps
tied together across your sunburnt shoulders.
Most of all, I loved the way your hair fell down along your back,
richly golden in the raw light of the department store. How radiant you were,
even under a fluorescent glare.

You spent tonight fidgeting with the hem of that dress
as strangers surrounded you on all sides:
a blur of faces that I couldn’t bring myself to focus on
enough to make out anything more than an occasional pair of brown eyes,
a sharp nose, a twisted smile in the dim light.
You smiled and laughed, threw your head back wildly,
moved your hands just right as you spoke,
just boldly enough for me to see that they weren’t shaking
like mine.

I kept to myself, dodging the eyes of anyone who passed,
with a drink in my hand that I sipped through a yellow straw
and couldn’t seem to taste. I counted the seconds in between glances at you
and waited for a greeting that never came.

The air hung thick with conversation,
the sky lit with garish stars, all of them starved for our attention.
I saw you crane your neck and peer up at them,
as though searching for something in their fragile light.
You spoke to a man in a dark jacket,
his sandy hair slicked back and his eyes fast asleep.
He pointed a rough-skinned finger towards the sky,
resting the other hand at the base of your neck and turning your head
so your eyes were pointed in the right direction.
I watched him whisper lifeless words, about stars and the universe,
the mystery of life. You smiled without him seeing.
I thought you might walk away then,
but instead you stood closer and spoke back to him,
with an eloquence that he guzzled down like sweet strawberry wine.

I kept an eye on the two of you for a while,
until the last faded edges of the night escaped into the valley
and the crowd began to murmur with goodbyes.
Party guests trickled out slowly, off towards warm beds and safe homes,
sweet dreams filled with hazy memories. I got a jolt to the gut
watching you take off into the night, long legs sprinting through the grassy field
towards wherever you had parked your car. The edges of that dress
lifted with every step you took: a shot of periwinkle against the crumbling starlight.

Your movements were touched with oblivion,
and never once did you turn to see me watching.
Never once did you falter in your conversation, or
pause to peer through the misty darkness
until you caught my gaze, your seafoam eyes
piercing like sunlight on my skin. You were so precise
in every move you made tonight, so careful to prove
that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

It was almost enough to ruin those moments we’d shared at the mall,
your fingertips on my spine behind the locked door
of the dressing room.
But as I watched you float across that field,
a smile crept across my lips.

No matter how much you ignored me,
I knew you would never have worn that dress
if you didn’t want me to see.