the dreams where I am naked
aren’t all that bad
I’m not taunted by an audience,
I’m not embarrassed by the class…
I’m revealed, uncovered, honest
and free— I can move unencumbered,
I can speak like I am me
the wave of exhilaration
meets the haze of transcendence!
and the range of possible paths
runs etched in the expressions
on fascinated faces…
what will I do with this new freedom?
you name it — it is the realm of
unconquered choice,
of ultimate experimentation…
feel the air across your skin
feel the gaze upon your body
look inward in admiration
and know the grandest of exaltation
Garbage Notes:
In this poem I am relating the feeling of speaking to an audience—and I mean really speaking, like pouring your heart out, baring your soul—to the experience of walking around without clothing on.
There’s this common nightmare of being in front of a class totally naked, and for some reason most people find this horrifying. And sure, to be that exposed and vulnerable could definitely be a traumatic experience. But I’ve realized over the years that it’s much worse not having any class to stand in front of. The bigger nightmare is to have no audience at all—no one to hear your truth. No one wanting to listen. No one willing to see you.