Take off your clothes, they say to her,
as their burly bodies tower
she’d been napping on the beach and lost track of the time,
enjoying the play of the afternoon light on water
and the applause of the sea on the sand.
happy now that there’s something she can wear in the water,
which will dry in the sun and leave salt on her skin
(after a languorous, sparkling swim)
so she’s not alienated from the world
so she can be free.
perhaps she knew the law
and chose not to abide
because laws can still silence justice
because order can still suffocate liberty.