When I start poetizing about nudity then you should know I do take the matter of the bare skin very seriously! I felt so inspired that I took one of Shakespeare's famous sonnets and transcribed it into this:
Let me not to the marriage of clothes
Succumb to illusion. Nude is not nude
When it covers the uncoverable,
Or colours the contours to recontour:
Oh no, it is an ever-fixed state,
That looks on shame, and is never shaken;
It is the compass to all bodies,
Whose senses are challenged yet sharpened.
Nude's not society's fool, yet erotic mounds
come under the knife of moral scrutiny;
Nude deceives not in the face of exposure,
But bares it all till shame loses its name.
If nude be proved as the true right of skin,
We are forever redeemed from this senseless sin
The original Shakespeare (Sonnet 116):
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with this brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.