We think we expose ourselves,

flaunting our nakedness with careless braggadocio.

We don’t.

We offer the skin as camouflage,

a distraction from the real business at hand, 

the exposing of the glitter within

that we imagine to be soiled.

It is.

But so is moss

and a freshly laid egg

 and a child set free in the woods.

Life is soiled, and this is its perfection,

for it does not tarry on dark or light,

but holds the two together in harmony

blessing its offspring with a rainbow rich in nuance.