True Nakedness

by Christian Sammartino

Everyone is naked 
In my dreams.

Not the variety of naked 
You are while having sex 
On a park bench.

The kind of nude you become when 
Someone decodes the invisible braille of every injury 
Your body has ever known.

A bloodhound that recovers a missing 
Person is fluent in that language—
The peace of home is theirs tonight.

It’s the kind of information survivors
From the Titanic discovered when they 
Were rescued from the Atlantic—
There will be no more sinking.

It’s more than what the Beatles meant
When they sang “I want to hold your hand.”

It’s the type of secret that was revealed to the Buddha 
When he attained Nirvana under the Bodhi Tree—
There is a path that leads away from all this suffering.

Michelangelo deciphered that sensation
When his brush grazed the ceiling of the 
Sistine Chapel for the first time—
Just because no one else has seen 
The masterpiece on your flesh, 
Doesn’t mean it’s less captivating.

I promise you will always be 
This shade of naked in my dreams.

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