NAKED IS NOT JUST A WORD

Naked is not just a word
it is the shudder of dawn
peeling night from the sky’s bare shoulders

Naked is the root
gnarled and greedy
clawing through stone to taste rain

Naked is the scream
that rips from a throat
before language stitches it into prayer

It is the scaffold of bones
holding up this trembling flesh cathedral
the raw nerve singing when touched
by wind or knife or longing

Naked is the first breath
drowning in new air
the last sigh dissolving
into nothing’s mouth

It is the wound that refuses to scab
the truth that refuses to lie down
even when buried under six feet of pretty words

Naked stands at the mirror
counting scars like constellations
mapping the galaxies
in every cracked constellation of skin

Not just a word
but the unmaking of words
the silence between letters
where everything real begins