Intimacy. What a sharp
double-edged sword.
Puzzling at first, now deciphered
crossword.
Nothing hidden from
each other's gaze,
Almost impossible
to surprise.
Familiarity breeds
contempt.
Anything within arm's reach
does not tempt,
Walls, veils – intrigue, inspire conquest,
enchantment.
Intimacy wraps softly in goose-down
contentment.
Nudity without intimacy is risky, sexy,
risque.
But intimacy implies nakedness, forbidden fruit –
now blase.
Yet some nakedness is better than
none
No one wants to die a monk or
a nun.
Is disenchantment the price we
pay
For wanting to have it all –
our way?