Lust

A silhouette with intent, then the break. The fabric falls straight, until it doesn't. A diagonal cut begins above the knee, carving its own way down to the ankle, not abrupt but certain. It shifts the rhythm, lets the body move in unexpected directions. Braids hold the shape together, left, right, and center, each one handwoven, like the dress remembers where it came from. But at the end, the memory frays. The hem unravels, not from wear, but from will.