Naked

She’s not a person you’d look at twice,
Were you to glimpse her going down the street.
It’s only her eyes that are dangerous,
And what happens when you strip her naked,
Letting the wild soul underneath breathe.
She’s fearless in only her skin,
The clothes a role too small for her to fit.
Her skin fits her not like a tailored suit,
Not something beautiful you’re afraid to spoil,
But like the things that grow with you
Until they become soft and comfortable,
That stretch to contain your curves
And toughen around your sharp edges.
She’s the kind of creature for whom
The clothes, the rules, the world,
Are an unwelcome constraint she can do without.
Anybody would, when they are so unnecessary.
She needs nothing other than herself –
She needs no weapons. She is a weapon,
Forged in the fire of a thousand suns.
She needs no cover. The universe is her cover,
Human eyes too feeble to perceive her.
She’s the kind of woman in whose arms you go
Looking for the meaning of God,
But remain for having found a goddess instead.
Don’t be fooled. Her hips are a beautiful lure,
The arms around you springing a hidden trap,
The lips honeyed only to hide the poison.
You can bleed to death cut on her sharp tongue,
And even worse on her sharper mind.
It’s a relief she’s this mythical creature
Only when her skin and soul are bare.
You’re safe if only you don’t look then
In the beautiful abyss of her hypnotic eyes.
So what are you waiting for? We both know
You can’t wait to see her naked soul.

3 thoughts on “Naked

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