Friday, 28 November 2008


Naked, you are
Someone you are not
When clothed.

You let it slide,
The garb that hides
Seashore lines, apple’s crescent
I watch the moonlight shining,
Clinging to your skin in darkness, where
There is nothing left to peel.

And I’m doused
In every inch of you.
Lazy quicksand, beautiful
When my breath on your navel
Moves those little snails,
They crawl and shy away inside.

My fingers trace the dawn to come,
As we smile and hum our songs of tomorrow.
When all finalities are reached
And the banalities approved, avoided
We are left but final with ourselves
Naked, under a blanket.

And after all premonitions have
Come to pass, you
Ask to be moulded
Made new,
My hesitant muse.

But naked, you take,
A different shape
From your disguise.
Like sand from an hourglass,
In my hands.

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