The pain of nakedness

The pain of nakedness
In the Mediaeval morning
Bitter as the sweet dew
Where heartbeats flower
From the amnesia of clothing
In the single heartbreak
In the honesty of morning air
Yearning for affection

The pain of nakedness
True as unexpected tears
That walks through a park
Made of the scenery of dreams
The tingle of the flesh
The tight vulnerable skin
The unprotected fantasies
The darting red deer of lust

The pain of nakedness
Its eternity through night and day
The never ceasing longing
To touch the pain of nakedness
To be touched and kissed
To be loved and caressed
Oh why do people run away?
Why do they bury their nakedness?

Isn’t there a Saviour?

The pain of nakedness
Born into a cradle of tears
Dying in the shrouds of anxiety
With the flesh turning to rags
The heartbeat silenced
The unsatisfied years disintegrating
The spirit like lightning strikes the ground
But goes out like a candle flame

The pain of nakedness
A game of endless patience
On an empty kitchen table
And now sleep and night and death
Often cuts short the winning hand
So often severs life’s fulfilment
Or separates the pleasures like oceans
Around the pain of nakedness

Jan 16th 98

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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