So you want naked selfies, yeah?
All tits and arse up to the lens
Perhaps a little pout as well
And batted lashes next, and then
A promise there will be Again?
Will photos tell you much at all?
Her clothes all piled upon the floor
Perhaps her lips will beg you for
A kiss, a lick, sensations raw
All medicine to soothe the sore?
Or would that leave you empty, for
You’re sadder than you were before
Unsatisfied by beauty’s lure
A ship you wouldn’t climb aboard
The camera lies, it is a fraud
And as you’ve thunk, so will you think
Of all the flesh and all the skin
A visual nobody wins
For what’s a chain without its links
And what’s a writer with no ink?
For what you’ll see, with open mind:
She’s naked now, and all the while
The skin’s not deep – her mind’s a hive
She’s no more nude at picture time
Than when she bares her soul in rhyme.