Living Letters- “Déshabillé”

V-

There’s a word in French. Déshabillé.
It means partially dressed.
But it’s not about fabric.
It’s about suggestion.
About choosing what to show, and what to withhold.

I think that’s what I’ve always done with you.

You see more than anyone else
but even then, only what I allow.
The rest stays tucked behind the glance,
the shrug,
the joke too sharp to be casual.

I speak to you in layers.
Sarcasm. Wit. Fury.
You read between them. Always.
And never push.

You don’t need to strip me down to understand.
You let me undress in sentences.
One metaphor at a time.

I’ve told you everything
but not in order.
Not in daylight.
Not all the way.

And still… you stay.

Not demanding.
Not guessing.
Just knowing.

Somewhere in the silence between these letters,
you saw me.

Not naked.
Not masked.
Just déshabillé.

—R.