by Elodie Rose Barnes Frank Weichkopf Silk slides over legs, over bar stools, over taxi seats. A good girl never goes out without stockings. Patent leather dances with velvet swirls; the intricate patterns made by pointed toes and heels leave fleeting traces, sparklers along the floor. Darkness caresses bare shoulders and flirts quietly with hips. It will be rags by the end of the night, as dawn rips its way through satin and lace. Mother-of-pearl nestles in curls. The last o