I need nakedness.

 

I need nakedness

to write

unabashedly.

 

I need nakedness.

 

I strip down

lightly

at first:

off comes my bra

pulled from

the sleeves

of my sweater;

my socks

slip on the floor

with a gentle tease.

 

The watch

that once hugged

my wrist

unclasps

and I no longer

tell

the time.

 

I need this nakedness.

 

I need this

nakedness

to write

and

to see

and

to be

me.

 

My body is not

solely

for a man,

for others

to grasp

to own

to need.

 

My mind

my naked mind

is so easily

kept away

but I want

to awaken

her,

undress

her.