It doesn’t take much
To be nude.
Drop out of your suit,
Forget everyone else’s
Meaning of crude.
But your fingers
Are burning cold
And your heads,
Hot as the sun
Might be to hold.
Aches that numb,
The first fear
Of eyes passing over,
In white light
You appear.
Your music plays,
Hands draw fast.
Time wobbles,
Sliding out of position,
At last.
It doesn’t take much
To be nude.
Drop out of your suit,
Forget everyone else’s
Meaning of crude.