Love Me Naked

 There is a vague timeline
In this earthly transition
looking at the ticking clock
counting the seconds
Am I that afraid of the darkness
Of an unknown beyond
Well, nothing promised nothing gained

I look into the mirror
Where beauty once resided
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
they say but no, not this decline
forever is just a word
Nobody have returned and told
where forever resides

So do I wait for death
Or expect the unexpected
Things happen for a reason
So they say…
but not aging pain and demise
or is it?
I refuse to seep in melancholy

So let me think positively
A good beginning
makes a good ending
may not apply to me
the beginning was terrible
the same ending…
o help me Lord!

Better to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved at all
that’s positive
lost my love to lost love
His not mine
She returned…..
Positive indeed.

I give up
Tick Tock
I’m counting
Definitely not sheep.

Eyes like stars
But she finds them too dull
Luscious ruby lips
Not full enough
Smooth curves, hourglass figure
Waist not thin enough, thighs without a gap
She shapes her body to the magazines
Cutting out the pieces that don’t fit
She covers her face with makeup
To hide her faults, her true skin
She wears long sleeves
To hide her scars
Chemicals sink into her pores
But they won’t make her look like the models on TV
Her scars can’t be seen but she still feels them
They’re etched deep into her silk skin
She can’t unsee her true face in the mirror  
As she rips off her toxic mask.
She would pay anything
She would bleed
To change this imperfectly perfect face
The beautiful image that she cannot see
Rip the flaws from her skin
Replace it with society’s accepted standard of beauty.
Her body is defective in her own eyes
Blemished, torn, faulty
She has dreams of envy stained faces glaring at
Her as she elegantly strides away into a world they could
Never touch, a place distant from her own reality.
Her skinny heart may taint that
Stunning body she’s carving out from her body
What if the world changed to make her beautiful
What if she was taught the soul is as beautiful as
A figure with the right curves. Mirrors have broken
Humanity, the distortion of true beauty by lust filled eyes
Have irreparably drowned flourishing souls
She’ll wake up in the dying winters of her youth
And realize, these concepts of beauty never
Saw the heart of her. They couldn’t see
through her perfect, unblemished skin  

CYCLE IV: AIR    
   
Bunch grass cathedral pray'rs, our sanctify.    
Bright sun, as still as church, and Blazes' hot.    
The dunes, our commune sacrament apply.    
We, prostrate, naked, praise our god’s begot.    
Once beachly crofts relenting worships’ bend,    
Exerts, the Host and Holy Wine’s encase.    
In service’ genuflecting, rhythm blends;    
Our kneeling’s grace and fill of Holy Place.    
When offers splash on tabernacle’s ark,    
In melting stuff, gift sacrificial spill,    
The sea’s divine procession’s chill embark.    
We rise to winds’ afresh, brought with god’s will;        
Arms spread, as celebrants before the creche,    
To wade Pacific fount’s baptize refresh.    
   
April 27 - NaPoWriMo 2017