Nothing makes us naked

 In the sources. In the rays. The incomprehensible. Despite the clarity of the world. The senses adrift. You remain. Flesh of all the firm leaves. Permanent integrity without loss. Possessed heart of certainty burns burning until we are left without death, with holes in hope. If we ever thought we were alien, forgive us for the ignorance. It dwarfs us. Nothing makes us naked.

SubIrrealism in a mirror. Random intratextuality.