wearing a conversation

i am in deep love with the feeling of wearing skirts
the long voluminous kind that go down to your shins, swirl around
and announce your arrival with soft swishy sounds
like shy church bells or old trees
and when you have to sit, you are involved in this sitting
and it is a grand sitting
with lengths of fabric to arrange, display
just so.
then they busy themselves, my skirts
chatting with the small bones in my ankles
dancing around my tattoos
playing with my silver anklets
these skirts of mine that are always Up To Something
sometimes get so chatty and bold
brushing up against strangers' legs when all
i am trying to do is walk away quietly.
but sometimes they fall into strange, limp silences
folds immersed one in another
many random wrinkles
going darker, falling into themselves
turning into the mere weight
of cloth
yes i do love that wearing my skirts
is like wearing a conversation
that begins, "dear world,
this is how you made me feel today..."