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I want to go naked in the fields,
naked as hummingbirds
that sip from purple lilacs, iridescence
vibrant as the flowers’ fragrance.
In sunshine, bare-assed
as the day I was born,
sun’s power to birth and kill—
both a kind of blessing.
Naked, I’d watch tanagers’ wings
beat with furious grace.
I’d embrace aspens,
breasts against bark,
intimate as lovers.
Death is immodest,
so I’ll give up shyness and sing love,
light as cottonwood seeds
drifting into whatever’s next,
into all that sustains, even me.
Copyright 2018 Lindsey Royce