Naked

My naked thoughts wear these words loosely

These words aren’t haute couture

They’re jeans and a tee shirt

Covering my imperfections and strengths

My thoughts aren’t tourists

But they travel

Boxed by language

I send them away

Stripping down to nothing

Immodest, shameless and proud

Until I remember Eden and try to cover up

Stitching dissimulations into rags

Weaving barriers against your clarity of sight

I clothe my truth to ease my anxious fears

Obscuring the purity of perfection

With imprecision and misdirection

As language turns clean thoughts to soiled words

 

 

David Trudel    ©  2013

 

 

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2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Naked

  1. Clean thoughts to soiled words. Love it.

  2. Thanks Susan. Your words are translucent silk that barely conceal your own grace.

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