Beneath the moon’s gentle glow,
A black dress sways with grace,
Silken whispers in the night,
A dance of shadows in lace.

In the quiet of twilight’s embrace,
The fabric tells its tale,
Of dreams woven in starlit threads,
Where mysteries gently unveil.

Each fold holds a secret song,
Echoes of timeless allure,
A garment of midnight’s embrace,
Wrapped in beauty, deep and pure.

As the evening softly fades,
The black dress remains a muse,
A symbol of elegance and night,
In which the heart can’t refuse.