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Feb 2012
Stripped, naked. Flesh, raw.
Eyes burn like lasers, though you are bare.
The light: “a” light illuminates your limbs.
Its gleam reflects each angle of your body.

A nod of the head and there intent is set.
The stroke of a brush, a flicker of lead.
An artist’s projection upon the canvas.
You are: living, breathing and true.

Each curve invites inquiry; of shadow or shade?
Minds race to undress you further,
they peel at your skin.
Attention averts, bound by the three dimensions of your being.

On a pedestal you stand. Flushed and raw.
Though scrutinized and scanned, they cease to see you.
Simple minded are they,
foolish and dull.

The light grows dim.
Squinting with strain, they cannot grasp you.
You laugh and grin

Warmth melts your play-dough skin,
as a light illuminates from within.
Lindsey Hagen
Written by
Lindsey Hagen
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