Undress

29 May 2017

She's a walking poem

I want to tear apart

Her clothes

Of doubt.

Until she's bare,

Naked in her vulnerabilities,

Laying directly upon mine.

She's forgotten the strength 

Of her muscles

That protect her heart.

She is a shape of foreign art

I crave to paint

With my tongue,

And drape her with the affection 

she thinks she doesn't deserve

From being bare, naked.

Undressed of her insecurities.

I want to paint her on a mural

Across the stars.

Maybe then she'll feel the details of what I feel 

when she's across from me.

She connects broken constellations,

She directs me home again by being

Naked, afraid, daring.

Often,

I become lost in her body.

I am drawn to her story,

Her unspoken language.

So much going against her.

So much going for her.

Still,

She feels naked, afraid, daring.

Still, she is daring.

She breathes fire.

She is fire.

She is (my) everything.