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Nude vs Naked

All this buzz behind E. Badu's Window Seat video has gotten me involved in some interesting conversations and some self reflection. This topic, like many with my Sista Kin, is not new for me and so I dug in my own crates for ONE of the times when I tried to touch on this topic. As I stated earlier in an FB convo, nudity and being naked are not 1 in the same. I'm not so sure this youthful attempt at qualifying what it means to me would suffice for what I know of it, personally, today but I thought it'd still be fun to share. The question I find myself asking is "how much of me can the people stand to see?" and "how much of me can I truly stand to share with the people?" Putting yourself out there, exposing the inner working of your mind is A LOT more difficult than exposing your body. Part of beginning this public journey was to see how wide I could open my mouth without embarrassment, apology, or regret. What I've discovered is that there is always another to consider before I say ANYTHING in this space. Not so sure I've fully broken my silence or if I've achieved the nakedness I so desperately seek. Being nude has never been a big deal to me, but being naked....that's hard.

Nude vs Naked

If I stand before you & remove a glove
You see my hand
If I stand before you & raise my skirt
You see my legs
Nothing more than bare parts
If I stand before you & remove all my coverings
Am I anything more than nude?
Do you really know me?

If I sit before you & open my mouth
Can you taste my pain?
If I sit before you & unleash my tears
Can you see my soul?
If I laugh w/your hands on my shoulders
Can you feel my joy?
It’s when I bare what happens beneath the parts,
When I’m comfortable enough to be more than an arm or pair of breasts that
I am naked
You can say you know me

(c) 2003
11 february 03

Watch me move.

PS-thanks for the image Sed!

1 comment:

  1. Nice! Behind that tough girl exterior of yours lies a woman with a warmth (I always see yellow and warmth with you! You are really a child of Oshun). Reading your writings is like flowing down a river in some senses. You don't know exactly where its going to take you, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in excitement at the unknown twists and turns that come up along the journey.