1
When I met you,
I was naked.
And I don't apologize for it much,
but I really do have to say--I'm sorry.
It can be hard viewing someone's flesh
so quickly or without warning.
It must have scared you so much.
However, in my defense,
I need to let you know,
you were lucky.
It is not often that my skin doesn't shrink under strangers' eyes
and you ended up getting a show others might miss for years.
It was only because...I trust you.
2
When you met me,
you were naked.
And, I'm really sorry
that I couldn't look away.
You were a car crash,
a domestic dispute on the street,
screeching banshee cry
over the smash of drywall
and squeal of flattening tires.
And when you walked into the next room,
I didn't follow to keep staring.
It just seemed like the right thing to do.
It was only because...I trust you.
And that was fucking stupid.
3
When we met,
we were both fully clothed.
You said hi
and I immediately wanted to be close to you.
I wanted to feel your arms wrap around me,
your face warm next to mine.
I wanted to know that you were behind me,
ready to catch me.
You can bet your ass that I didn't trust you at all.
but I took joy in pretending that I did.
I was proud that I wasn't so easily scared
and let you think I was a bigger person.
I was a fool for letting you believe,
because you soon shrank away without knowing it.
4
I don't really remember the night we met,
but I'm pretty sure after you introduced yourself,
Our clothes melted away like spring snow.
I can still see you hiding under the covers,
or trying on different costumes,
hoping to catch the one that I might like you in best.
But you told me I looked beautiful in the nude,
that so few could pull off that shade of invisibility.
The only time you were so clear with me
was when I told you
my smile was because
I never bought your lies.
5
You were never really naked.
You gave me a strip tease, but always stopped short.
Instead you insisted on me joining in,
and each layer between us traded bodies,
never quite reaching an end point.
It was with you that I learned
trust is not really about full surrender
but learning what you can expect from someone else.
When I found I could hold nothing against you
because I expected nothing in the first place,
you must've known and decided to rip out the tablecloth from under me
just as a reminder that you don't want to be part of something predictable.
All I could expect from you was drunken honesty.
6
You were always naked and that frightened me.
who would've thought that a budding nudist
would be so mortified by someone else?
But your skin was so fresh
and all I've ever been is sandpaper.
We should have reconciled,
my poison dart frog coloring
and your curious squirrel,
I should have backed off for at least a minute,
but I never wanted to.
I'm sorry that your tears added to your torture,
that my words were knives and never comfort.
7
We've never taken off our clothes at all together.
but I've already imagined
how sexy you really are underneath that hoodie, babe.
Damn.
I have sculpted you as paper doll cut out,
tabs around each shoe and pant leg.
And when one get up doesn't suit you,
I trash it and imagine a new one-sided cover,
hoping you won't need it when I stop playing pretend.
8
I never liked taking my clothes off in the first place.
There were stories of showerless days
when I couldn't bear to look at my body
without a t-shirt on or even a pair of shorts.
I held my hands in my tangled hair
in hopes of refuge,
away from the mirror,
away from myself.
I had seen my reflection, or lackthereof,
and understood that there are monsters.
Monsters hiding inside each dresser drawer,
behind each lapel, under every belt.
Originally written on 2/20/2012
