Zilch.

With every lover who marked
A territory of his conquest,
She lost a part of herself.

They claimed her heart and soul,
She kept giving all she had.
Towards and away,
Back and forth.

The fashion had its unfolding,
She kept losing, they kept taking.

Oblivious of what was left,
She lost another conquest.

Now she's walking back and forth,
With nothing to give away,
For nothing she does possess.

The very remains of her belongings
Are buried somewhere in a place,
Where she last removed her dress.