(On Her Decision to Stop Wearing Clothes)

Coins in the hand

Can be stolen,

But who can rob this body

Of its own treasure?

The last thread of clothing

Can be stripped away,

But who can peel off Emptiness,

That nakedness covering all?

Fools, while I dress

In the Jasmine Lord's morning light,

I cannot be shamed—

What would you have me hide under silk

And the glitter of jewels?

Structure

13 lines · 13 stanzas