Sonnet XXVII: Naked You Are As Simple as one of your Hands

Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,

Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:

You have moonlines, applepathways:

Naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.

Naked, you are blue as the night in Cuba;

You have vines and stars in your hair;

Naked, you are spacious and yellow

As summer in a golden church.

Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails,

Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born

And you withdraw to the underground world,

as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:

Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,

And becomes a naked hand again.

XXVII From: ‘Cien sonetos de amor’