I'd Love To See You Naked

I’d love to see you naked,

your curvature of spine,

your face the work of painters

who’ve met with the divine.

Your art the hum of tremors

that shake this very earth,

your mouth a shock fantastic,

like Eden giving birth.

I’d love to see you naked,

and film you from the back,                                                               

and touch you like a vision

that’s had a heart attack.

Your neck a twisted forest,

your arms a lake supreme,

your legs like beams of summer,

your hair like silk serene.

I’d love to see you naked,

your skin like hidden veils,

I’d write you like an artist

who’d kiss you if he fails,

and sing you like a mountain,

and paint you like a dove,

and move you like some music,

composed in tragic love.                                              

I’d write you like a singer,

it wouldn’t take me long,

and you could be the dancer

enraptured by my song.

I’d love to see you naked,

my body rich and fair,

and I could write your poems

with you just standing there.