you can only be as naked as the truth you wish to bear.

i didnÂ’t want you to see me that way,
all my imperfections so blatantly aligned
with the symmetry of your body and the intricacy of your skin.

i thought it would be different than it was.
i played it over in my head until it was just a blur
of images that i combined with my expectations.

but in the end, i was alone, undressed. exposed.
i stood in front of that mirror, dissecting myself
while you slept behind me on the bed
your arm still outstretched to the pillow where i laid until
the room spun with my anxious thoughts.

we kept the lights on the whole time, your decision.
how could you be so comfortable in your own flesh?
i closed my eyes so it was dark but every time i looked at you
your face was someone elseÂ’s, from a past so longing for deletion.

and now i could do nothing but watch my figure be itself so shamelessly.
i could see your reflection through my own,
exhausted from our committed sins.
and i, so restless, stared into the corpus of my shape
until it was just figures, swimming in front of my eyes
too disjointed to make sense.

and when i would blink, iÂ’d come together once again
squinting my eyes, attempting to take in what someone else might.
but i could not detach myself to mere observation,
in the end, i was always me.

no amount of staring could make me different,
even the random objects scattered on the dresser seemed to tease me
with the existence of their futility.

who was i to rouge my lips or comb my hair?

but really, it was the mirror that made the room feel so heavy with self-doubt,
spreading its wings and begging for the vain to drown into its windows.

i stood there still until you stirred. i caught you watching, concerned,
but even then i could not move away, only tilt my head and wonder
what it was you saw, that i could never see.

03/06/2007

Posted on 03/06/2007
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