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Naked.

What are clothes?

I struggle to impart the truth of this awkward prose,
which is that nakedness doesn’t end with whatever we put on to hide the goodies.
No matter how ‘hood’ your hoodies,
or how clean
you and the sag of your jeans may be,
or how much Gucci
you have to cover up that cucci
truth is that with or without these garments
we’re still naked underneath them.
We no longer wear these clothes, but strive to try to be them.
If you believe in what happened in Eden,
then clothes can be equated to enlightenment.
Because of that,
we will Forevermore be shielded from ignorance.
This, is Sin’s gift unto the simple.
But if God says that our bodies are supposed to be a temple,
then are clothes just the garden gnomes and welcome mats?
I think it’s time to face the facts:
it’s nice to look nice.
I like to wear some ice,
strut in tailored Italian suits.
And surely I’d be shining if my lady
wore Louie boots.
But just because those Gucci shades sit on your face tinted,
nothing about that name brand on your head can tell me about what’s within it.
Now don’t get me wrong,
I’m sure people who don’t care
aren’t rare.
But we were born naked
Nature intended us to be bare.
There is beauty in our nudity.
Our skin is something that Prada can’t recreate.
The original name brand.
A garment so much better than any shirt.
The only article of clothing you’ll ever own
that when you outgrow it,
it turns to dirt.
But when it fit,
it fit perfectly
and oh so purposefully.
An outfit that fit no one else,
an outfit that when it ripped or tore
it resewed itself.
That’s the skin again.
Never thrown into the bin again
an outfit that stretches so fluidly across your joints and ligaments.
Now the fact that sometimes you may not be happy with that outfit
is probably true.
But the truth is nobody ever born can wear your skin like you.
So if this is the best outfit you will ever need,

What are clothes?

Fear of nudity is only another way of the mind being closed.
Not unheard of,
nor anything of which to be ashamed
but you’ll live your life naked
and that is fact that you can’t change.
Is it the rawness of the reality of our nudity
that makes us self conscious?
In men, is the phallic fallacy of what is longest strongest?
Or in women,
do the size of your breasts mirror the size of your soul?
Just because your ass sags doesn’t mean that you aren’t whole.
See, personally I may not enjoy the sight of my own nudity,
but for one true moment among my moments,
I can be liberated.
And maybe Gucci, Louie, and Abercrombie and Fitch is just a failed attempt at skin recreated.
Now, I really don’t know how to make skin,
so don’t ask me what the trick is,
but I do know that it doesn’t matter what you look like
or how big your dick is,
what matters is that even to an athiest the body is a temple.
Clothes are Sin’s gift to the simple,
but sometimes simple is best.
Our nudity is a gift,
our nakedness is raw and true.
The one thing that will stay with us,
forever faithful
and forever sacred.
You can look on your own image with hatred.
We may not drive the same cars or wear the same clothes,
but everybody at one point,
will be Naked.

Naked.

Shaquille Stewart

Montgomery Village, United States

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Artist's Description

Look at yourself naked in a mirror for thirty minutes and every second you might hate it less and less.

Artwork Comments

  • mermanda
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