Poem on the Catwalk

Poem on the Catwalk

She steps where cameras are and chandeliers hang low,

a red carpet unrolling like a sentence with no end.

Black silk holds the night together at her waist,

and every eye learns how to listen instead of stare.

The coat trails behind her like a finished thought,

heavy with confidence, warm with knowing who she is.

Each step lands clean, measured, unafraid of noise,

as if the floor itself has asked her to arrive.

This is not fashion alone, it is language in motion,

a body writing truth without asking permission.

The slit reveals not skin, but decision and nerve,

a life that has learned how to stand where light insists.

Here is the poet’s dream made visible and real,

where beauty does not apologise for taking space.

She walks on, leaving silence stitched with awe,

and the night remembers her long after the doors close.