A Poem in a State of Flux--Evening Gown

Here is one that I have wrestled with a great deal and still am not certain about some of the decisions made.

Evening Gown
Steven Riddle

Her shoulders
cattle-bone
white against
starkest black--
a velvet
bodice.

              Matte
black promise,
the plump breasts
perfumed, ask
no questions,
and yet are
soft and wise
as eggs

          warm
as salmon
in the stream.
Rounded now
hidden now
revealed, seen
anew by
icy eyes.
Seducing
senses now
perfect, now
promising
perfection.
Unblooming,
bountiful,
promiseless,
and alone.

Forlorn and
lying,
        they
neither speak
nor know the truth.