Fall 1986 • Vol. VIII No. 4 PoetryOctober 1, 1986 |

Nakedness

Yes, Runu,it's you and I who are naked.The winds rise kiteless,and meat measures the speed of hooves,as we let our sympathiesedge past the corners of our nakedness. Here the dead always rise,out of their eyesappear the mist and the anguished pine.So one among us begins a story:yet how could one hear a voicefrom the desolate stage? Under the black stoneis another tomorrow:a strange god who darkensthe pink hooves as you watch;the design of the deadyou cultivate like a rose in a pot. A way of telling each otherwe know:a curse of the rainbow,my hands, lying openone on top of the other,cold as fish on the slab of your lap.

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.
Author of sixteen collections of poetry, Jayanta Mahapatra’s latest volume is titled Bare Face. He has read his poetry around the world and is widely anthologized. He edits the literary periodical Chandrabhaga. His recent work has appeared in the Sewanee Review.

Read More

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.