Only one naked on stage

I asked a friend to write me a poem and label it "to read while it's nude."

Remembering curtains of hair, their drawing.

Certain demands met and others forgotten, drowned in exhaustion's water.

I wondereth at what stands in common, at she circumspectly open, eyes actually limped under masks, when they catch the lamplight.

Truth's tinted act in semantic tableau, light and heavy is the hand that jests when one doesn't get it.