January 2022

by  Doug Tanoury

Undressed, there is a quiet vulnerability

She wears and like nature herself, she is never

Truly naked, but rather, always holds something

Back that remains partially hidden and is never

Fully revealed.

A nude frozen for a moment in her bath,

Something Bonnard might paint, surrounded by

Diffused colors of a Mediterranean twilight,

A soft blueness of a sunset tipped slightly toward

The ultra-violet side of the spectrum that is more a

Property of the atmosphere than of any

Physical light.

She is a singularity where sight, sound, smell

And touch converge with such intensity,

And forces of attraction are so powerful,

That space itself is warped until both the

Tanned public and pale private places

Of her skin become an event horizon, where

Time stops, and the memory of a lover’s smile

Lingers forever