Work Text:
You wear fine things well, my dear.
Silk, linen, and exquisite cashmere.
With your hair in a bun crowned with flowers.
The ribbons in your beard I could gaze upon for hours.
You wear fine things well, my love.
The grit of leather and the purity of dove.
Adorned with knife that could cut me so deep,
You may not be rich, but you’ve never been cheap.
You wear fine things well, my treasure.
You hold a value I could never measure.
You’re elegant and dangerous, you’re my deepest affection,
And I’m amazed by your dialectic complexion.
You wear fine things well, my sweet.
Diamonds and rubies could never compete.
If dining is pageantry, you’re a whole meal.
If loving is theft then I guess you’re a steal.
You wear fine things well, my heart.
Every color on you is its own fine art.
Each jacket, each blouse - they all highlight your face.
With or without, you’re my own act of grace.