FROM THE COLLECTION: And we call that love?

The touch of your presence 

Opens me up

Like a can of coke

You cannot close back anymore.


I stand in front of you





You close your eyes,

You turn away.

You don’t dare to stand the looks

On my soft, freckled skin.


I remain still,

Undressed and barefoot,

Watching you disappear,



What do I do with this?

Should I cover myself up?

How do I wear my nakedness in the world,

That sees only clothes?


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