When wearing moments like clothes,

which Pavlov’s ***** would suggest is a moment’s cost,

it’s hard to imagine what it means to be naked

if all you can do is remember.

In the rare occasions that I forgot,

I find myself bare bodied with a thought;

if all is fair in love and war

then all is fair and why talk?

There are some differences in the shades

between what one calls reality

and another calls god.

Both wrapped in the tattered garments of their lives

stitched together with words defined by their cause.