Unexplainable Need
---------------------------------- A perversity of haunts has risen;
An inferno that’s to taxing to contain.
Hopelessly lucid and flat, a moment,
I own, You may find use to know of.
Presumable of this girl, let me explain….
There’s a routine of frigid storms, phallic of me
An impenetrable mask of conviction painted
The full blush of a blue cheek. I question
My short comings. This growth is
Yellowing and bothersome. Tomorrows
A constant ache of mind to figure. Forced,
Seamless state of a pressed goal my pen
Pursues. My straightforward pleasure to
Your congress of heart causes my first
View of light and my final eclipse as
The sun sleeps. A comfort to me in desiring
Your desire; sweet gifts existing of an
Understanding too big for language. It’s savage
To mouth like words. No one subsists. In
A numbered way, my mouth’s a prison.
We don’t waste words on—I abuse ink
Instead. Such a limited vassal that
Presented herself to You. Every budding
Crevasse tainted and un-whole. In my
Weakness, I ask, “Why want me?”
There’s a yearning; little devils pushing
Of feelings to do more than ready for.
The woman and child scuffle inside me. Their
Tears smolder and run as wax from a daring
Flame too clear. So unsettled, they wait. I’m sorry
For the lost voice and deficient perfection,
Weary to of not being ready, of being a woman—
Child stuck in between. Biting the pulse
Through apologies is not enough. My
Clumsy mend of verse, here, causes
Me to beg a thing, a bequest; please,
Break me. Down. Hard. Through the
Middle of what I have come to think I am,
To the core of who You know me to be.
An inferno that’s to taxing to contain.
Hopelessly lucid and flat, a moment,
I own, You may find use to know of.
Presumable of this girl, let me explain….
There’s a routine of frigid storms, phallic of me
An impenetrable mask of conviction painted
The full blush of a blue cheek. I question
My short comings. This growth is
Yellowing and bothersome. Tomorrows
A constant ache of mind to figure. Forced,
Seamless state of a pressed goal my pen
Pursues. My straightforward pleasure to
Your congress of heart causes my first
View of light and my final eclipse as
The sun sleeps. A comfort to me in desiring
Your desire; sweet gifts existing of an
Understanding too big for language. It’s savage
To mouth like words. No one subsists. In
A numbered way, my mouth’s a prison.
We don’t waste words on—I abuse ink
Instead. Such a limited vassal that
Presented herself to You. Every budding
Crevasse tainted and un-whole. In my
Weakness, I ask, “Why want me?”
There’s a yearning; little devils pushing
Of feelings to do more than ready for.
The woman and child scuffle inside me. Their
Tears smolder and run as wax from a daring
Flame too clear. So unsettled, they wait. I’m sorry
For the lost voice and deficient perfection,
Weary to of not being ready, of being a woman—
Child stuck in between. Biting the pulse
Through apologies is not enough. My
Clumsy mend of verse, here, causes
Me to beg a thing, a bequest; please,
Break me. Down. Hard. Through the
Middle of what I have come to think I am,
To the core of who You know me to be.
If it pleases You…my breath is
White with need. Only if.
-------------------------------------
Jenni 2009





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