Is it not the best of things to be seen fully clothed yet as entirely naked as newborn?

The brightness thereof overtops and shadow-shunts the sallow sight of self every, every time.

One day, it was the first full day of my life. I did not know it was, because I didn’t know my life was mine to know. And I did not know the knower of my life, though I did sense the curious presence of a newness so new, I could not yet know it was so near to me as to be within me.

I was palely loitering.

Along came a pair of eyes to look to me.

The eyes, they see my blinking eyes.

And I deconstruct!

My face,

my muscles,

even my blood,

I am all

transparent.

I am unshadowed

to my very bones.

And then?

A symphony orchestra shakes

what’s left of who I never knew I was.

Inside the gaze of easy eyes

I am deciphered, molten, electrified

made suddenly extraordinarily rich.

Out of my head, lovebirds do fly

joyful

noisy

free