Other Than Naked

There’s a clock ticking outright,

A doomsday waiting,

She’s tattooed it to herself

Because she thought she believed in secrets.

 

Only now, it’s an imprint.

And in all rooms,

You can see right through her.

 

And she can think she’s bad

Until she cries out,

“My god, I’m melting!”

And this dripping sculpture

Is nothing other than naked,

Leaping towards the curtains

For quick closure.

 

Some say it’s sad,

When there’s no work

For the chisels

And a demeanor lays sallow

On a public stage,

But I’d say what’s flagrant will fall.