Your Naked Body

Posted on by

Memories

By Spector & Cohen
From the album, Death Of A Ladies Man

Frankie Lane, he was singing Jezebel
I pinned an Iron Cross to my lapel
I walked up to the tallest
and the blondest girl
I said, Look, you don’t know me now
but very soon you will
So won’t you let me see
Won’t you let me see
Won’t you let me see
Your naked body?

Listen to Leonard Cohen sing this, with all that boy anguish, desire, impatience pouring from his raspy voice.  I’m sitting on my bedroom floor, eyes closed, listening to the CD and seeing the 16-year-old boy cross the gym floor, struggling to control his body, his throat tight with a thousand inchoate needs and thoughts.  I see the girl, controlling the moment.

We may not have heard or spoken, you and I, those exact words in our youth.  But, surely, we  heard or spoke words much like these all those decades ago.

And just as surely those sentiments are expressed with more finesse now that we’ve matured.  I’m thinking of this snippet of a party flirtation from the life of my friend, Brenda.

He:  “You look beautiful tonight.  That dress looks perfect on you.”

She:  “Why, thank you.”

He: “ I can think of only one place it’d look better.”

She:  “Oh, really?  Where?”

He:  “Crumpled up on the floor at the foot of my bed.”

Interesting variation on the theme, don’t you think?

So why is it that I get stuck hearing those adolescent words at this stage of my life?  Because that is exactly what he said, “I want to see your naked body.”

It doesn’t matter who the “he” is.  One of the men drifting around the perimeter of my life.

Couldn’t a man in his late 50’s come up with something more profound?  More poetic?

I’ll give him credit for the sincerity and straightforwardness.  But, really?

I was stunned by the bluntness.

Then there’s the thought of me, naked.  This aging body, with no clothes on, alone in a room somewhere, with some man.

Scary.

That’s why I’m sitting on the floor of my bedroom, listening to this song.  I have in front of me a hat box.  This box usually sits on the top of my armoire.  I had to use a foot stool to get at it.  Strewn around the hat box are its contents; a lifetime of photos and love letters, starting with my freshman year in college.  Two of the photos rest face up in front of my crossed legs.

I’m looking at my 20-year-old naked body.  Actually, our naked bodies, since my lover is with me.  In the photo on the right, I’m lying on my back in bed, he’s bent over me.  Our eyes are locked on each other’s, our mouths open in laughter.

In the photo on the left, we’ve assumed a pose inspired by John Lennon and Yoko Ono.  We sit naked side by side, cross-legged, staring deadpan into the camera, elbows intertwined.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I remember when my amateur photographer boyfriend took those photos, and later, how I helped him develop them in his dark room.

My breath slows and deepens, stillness spreads through the room as I look at those two photos.  So lovely.  We were both so lovely.  So tender, so innocent.

I don’t remember the first time we made love.  What I do remember is him playing his guitar and singing for me.  Leonard Cohen.  He’s the one who introduced me to Leonard Cohen.

 Sometimes I see her undressing for me,
A soft naked lady love meant her to be,
And she’s moving her body so brave and so free
That’s something to remember,
That’s a fine memory.

Even though I can’t remember that first time, of one thing I’m sure.  Young Georgia was confidant, as she took off her clothes, or as he took them off for her, that her naked body would delight.

And what about now?  That’s the scary thought.

A couple of weeks ago the women’s locker room at my gym burst with the exuberance of a group of teenage girls primping, joking, texting, gesticulating as they talked to each other.  One of them bumped my arm with one of her broad gestures.  When she apologized, I told her, “Didn’t feel a thing.”

Then she smiled at me and said, “I have to tell you, lady, you’ve got a great body.”

I beamed, said, “You’ve made my week!  You have no idea what that means, coming from a beautiful young woman,” and I hugged her on my way out the door to an aerobics class.

That memory brings me back to the 50-something guy saying, “ I want to see your naked body.”  What he saw is the form that still fits into the same size dress I wore when I was 30, the form that actually looks good in spandex.  But those clothes cover up a lot of years, a lot of aging, a lot of changes.

I look at those two photos on the floor in front of me and wonder if I will ever again have the confidence to move my body so brave and so free.

And how about you, my friends?

15 thoughts on “Your Naked Body”

  1. How I wish the younger me would have had the confidence to share completely. The aged body that looks back from my mirror now is just a difficult reminder of what I once had and didn’t appreciate. Perhaps next time around.

  2. This question came from a 78 years young tennis player in the other room “are we ever going to make love before I die?” I presumed he was still talking to his long-distance girlfriend on the phone….. he poked his head around the corner and asked “well”? I laughed and asked if he was planning to “check out” soon and added “I have a lot of i’s to dot and t’s to cross before/IF that ever happens…..he smiled and replied “I’m patient.” A year later I was in bed with him and his well conditioned body — here I was a 50+ years, married woman, who had not been naked even with my husband much for the past 20 years — filled with all the insecurites yet thinking “what the hell, let’s see what we’ve both been missing…” I left @ 3 a.m. while he was asleep, just leaving a note …. he called by 9 a.m. asking “why” and inviting me back for “dessert” that night. I wonder, as Andy Warhol did/said, if it is possible to have a love affair that lasts forever. For the past four years I would say “yes”… and it is delicious!

    • Hi Priscilla: Now if this isn’t an intriguing story , one that leaves me, and I bet anyone who reads it, wanting to know more. Lucky you!

      • Let’s just say, for now, that while I labor through reading Shades of Grey (so I can understand what all the buzz is about) I think man how women, in my opnion, are simply missing the boat… the story I am living seems so much more sensual, exciting and fulfulling….

  3. “But those clothes cover up a lot of years, a lot of aging, a lot of changes.” I betcha that little girlie in the locker room had it spot on, Ms. Georgia! As women “of a certain age”, we should celebrate our bodies – with all their imperfections (imagined or otherwise). I’m sure your 50-something guy’s body reflects 50+ years of living as well! Let your confidence radiate and your body will …

    Happy Monday!

  4. Yes, a young nubile naked body can delight but what more? What can the young woman inside the body give? The bodies of youth are like empty vessels waiting to be filled with joys, pains, laughs, tears; filled with those thousands of memories that will ultimately make up the person within.

    I feel most men, of a certain age, are not wanting to delight in the body ( I could be very wrong here!). They are wanting to rejoice in the woman. They want to share in all the memories that lie within. I would like to ask your male readers, which would you prefer; delighting in a shinny new beautiful vessel which is waiting to be filled or rejoicing in an exquisite refined vessel filled with the finest of wines?

    What a beautiful story you have crafted Georgia. As to the man in his late fifties who requested the honor of seeing you naked, I am sure what he sees is this beautiful body filled with thousands of memories, the best of both worlds.

    BF

    • Hi BF: You must have a romantic soul. Thanks for digging deep into it to try to reassure me.

  5. Oh Georgia, whether you work out or not, Spandex is a wonderful thing but you can’t really wear it to bed. Listen to Itty Bitty, male bodies age as well. You will probably discover that your body is in better shape than your male partner’s! My husband and I used to listen to Leonard Cohen while in bed. He’s playing at Madison Square Garden this December…Cohen not my husband. I think I’ll buy two tickets.

    • Hi Maryl: I have a CD of the most sensuous, seductive tribute concert ever, for Leonard Cohen. At the end, he performs one song with Bono and the Edge. Pure pleasure. Enjoy him at Madison Square Garden, then hurry home to write about what it was like while all the sensations are still fresh.

  6. I hear ya Georgia and can identify – like u, I had an “earthiness” about me in my youth and I feel it has never left and never will. I too am a Leonard Cohen fan and Bob Dylan will forever be in my heart…both also are earthy and poetic and somehow “speak” to me… Like me, I love that they are both still around and still my contemporaries. Yeah, we baby boomers were the best! Thus, I have no regrets being born when I was and what I experienced.

  7. Curious how we are so impatient in our youth when we have so much life in front of us. Somehow, with much less time left in our lives, we are able to be so patient. This post in its entirety chronicles that paradox so well. Thank you.