bare

when i was a child,

i would run down the back steps

away

away

away

from my parents,

trying to dress me.

and i remember how free i was-

running, my bare feet on green summer grass,

bare body under

bare summer sun

until they chased after me and

dressed me in a purple, lace rimmed dress.

i scratched and squirmed and ripped it off once more.

i ran down those back steps.

and i did it again;

again

again

again-

i have ran

down those back steps,

away

away

away

many times.

now, when i rest,

and fall to the feet of the night,

my own two feet run down my back steps once more

and i strip myself of

thoughts

words

fears

doubts

pressure

memories

and skin.

bare body under

bare summer moon.

but when i rise,

i am covered

concealed

clothed

once more.