I find myself in need of him
more often than I would like
even as my dreams drift to the thoughts
of my intended, it is he that I long and ache
to quicken again, once more, and ever more.
I fear this vulnerability I have in him
he sees me as porcelain, pure and subtle,
effortlessly wrapped in this ethereal sheen
of light and beauty,
yet when he can stand no more to be passive
witness to this deity of his own creation
he knocks me from it,
as I am shocked and relished by it
a lovingly held possession,
torn by my need of him
and his ache of me
prayers for time to stop and eternity to begin
often go unheard, and unnoticed as
all that is female and easily coaxed
is had by him, love like I’ve never known
to belong to him after the sun rises
after the moon fades
and after the tears have dried
how could I be whole without him?
–Jennifer Bush (now Harris), 2009
(*From Private canon)
