Clothed and Ashamed
Clothed and Ashamed
Underneath I’m naked.
This fabric that falls from shoulders
and flows to below my knees
could easily be removed,
dropped to the floor
and shoved away.
I am still in Eden sometimes—
haven’t tried the fruit,
met the serpent, or even
touched Adam.
I stare at this new body,
and wonder at its color and curves,
nails and curls.
But then the clothes appear again
and I face the loss of lush gardens.
This new earth, full of weeds,
work, and weeping, requires such toil.
I don my gloves and thick-soled shoes,
and feebly attempt to tug and destroy curses.