a thousand bullets gone astray

It isn’t nice
to be naked.
Two live wires,

hot, exposed,

to dangerous
to touch together
under the night sky.

Dark, unyielding,
no moon to light
the way toward
salvation and bliss.

A kiss delivered
on velvet lips
awaiting the
morning dew

to deliver parched
lips from a thousand
nights of thirst.

Process notes: I wrote this piece after reading a poem by Langston Hughes called March Moon. In it, the moon is naked after having been undressed by the wind. Hughes ends the poem with a question:

Don’t you know
It isn’t nice to be naked?

I turned the question into a statement. This made me think about how some people are ashamed to be naked and prefer to hide their nakedness from their lover under the cover of darkness or dimmed lights.

P.S. I picked up the idea of adding a short commentary behind the inspiration of my poems from Dana Guthrie Martin over at her blog My Gorgeous Somewhere. Thanks Dana.