Naked you are simple as one of your hands；

　　Smooth， earthy， small， transparent¹， 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 spacious² and yellow

　　As summer in a golden church.

　　Naked you are tiny as one of your nails；

　　Curved， subtle， rosy³， 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.