Morning (Love Sonnet XXVII)

 Naked you are simple as one of your hands;
Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round.

You've moon-lines, apple pathways
Naked you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.


Naked you are blue as a night in Cuba;
You've vines and stars in your hair.

Naked you are spacious and yellow
As summer in a golden church.


Naked you are tiny as one of your nails;
Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
And you withdraw to the underground world.


As if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores;
Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
And becomes a naked hand again.

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