Strip

The cap.
Take it off.
It hides your hair, your ever soft
seeming hair that I see.
I can only see,
Watch as it flounces as you walk.
It bristles in the whimsical wind.

Shoes.
Take them off.
We can wear the same pair,
Let our feet overlap
With each step.
March, map, match
Our soles.
Feet can carry, ferry -
Where do you want to be?

Clothes.
Strip
These garments that shield you
from me.
I cannot see you.
I cannot see the cracks on your skin,
Cannot feel what warmth lies within,
Cannot place my ear on your heart and hear it beating -

Are you alive?

Let me see,
Touch,
Feel,
What you are made of.

Show me.
Unveil yourself.
Pull away your skin.

I want to see the blood that runs in you,
The colours that flows through
your expansive mind that paints mine.
I want to hear your voice,
Each cadence and fall
Calling out to me.
I want to bury myself in your lungs,
Occupy the space between
The left lung and the right.
Prisoned in your rib cage,
I am content.
I know:
Inside, you are beautiful.

(So please,
Strip.
I want to see.)