I knock at the door where she lives

I knock at the door where she lives.

silence

From inside

No reply

Occasionally broken

By the chirping of crickets

Outside

In all accounts

breaching the privacy of her home,

I peer from the sheet

covered window into the darkness

Like a creep

But it is dark inside

No light to see

shadows

skins

I know she is

Bare bodied  

Behind the door

Bothering to cover herself

In my presence

Because she’d rather

un-dress than re-dress

I know,

I don’t

know why she bothers dressing

I have seen her undress,

Her hands tracing

wet soft skin   

The naked-est

she could have ever been

and I won’t

Spill those beans

Out of my mouth

Because it is long gone

Swallowed

Digested

And soaked in my bones

I hear the ruffling of her shirt

brushing over breasts,

her shouting skin muffled
by the vest

she finally decides to put on

and the shuffling of her feet

which will soon walk towards

the door and greet me with a smile

accidentally naked