Comparing poems about dresses:

New Dress by Anya Silver

Hello, lovely disguise. Come swing short and loose
around my thighs. Cowl my neckline, let my throat

rise out of your yellow folds like a virgin.
Cup my shoulders; cling to my breasts so closely

that my skin accepts you, sister, knit and pieced
by strangers’ hands, but closer to my body

than my own husband. You absorb in your stitching
my wrist’s vanilla and anise, the sweat of anxiety,

a hasty last morsel of soup, or blood from a bandage
pulled off too soon. And those gazes I scorned

when I was younger—I accept them so eagerly now,
not knowing how long my face will stay,

how long I’ll be able to walk on these legs, slim
in black tights, before sickness forces me down.

When no man will want me for a lover, or dream
of pulling you over my head, you’ll caress me,

won’t you? You’ll be with me, faithful friend,
when my body starts to turn.

What Women Want by Kim Addonizio

I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what’s underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I’m the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment
from its hanger like I’m choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin,
it’ll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.

I think they both work, but I’m not sure which I prefer: Silver’s vulnerability or Addonizio’s assertiveness. It’s also interesting how one poet uses rhyme at the beginning while the other concludes their poem with a rhyme—both techniques definitely fit the tones of the respective pieces.