“ A wave on thy bosom
Tides brought from afar
No holes in freedom
Except for thy wining star.

Brands are no attire
For rocks in birthday suit
Waters against light a fire
Lust in minutes a fruit.

And still none is naked
Social filth dress many a soul
Untrue love in ovens baked
Ephemeral ash in brands a goal.

Ô toddler come back
Fill thy hands true mud
Never to nakedness taken aback
Nor to naturalness a mad. ‘’