Skin (Poetry)

Unselfconscious in her skin,
such nudity’s a triumph of design —
her naïve pose an incidental thing —
Nature’s buff-toned lounging suit,
on others crude, on her looks cute,
she carries it with style.

Light her only covering —
the weightlessness of air against her spine,
her body unconcerned with shouldering
a single stitch — revealing all —
no teasing veil, no slipping shawl,
her smile an honest smile.

There’s no manufacturing
a cloth to match that texture — silky-fine;
seamless; self-renewing; fully-lined
and guaranteed to stay that smooth —
stretch and give with every move
she makes — a flawless trial.

Clothing kills the glow within —
disrobed she is a creature near-divine,
illuminated as the lens defines
youth’s ephemeral pale sheen,
diffusing that magnetic gleam —
her power to beguile.