Tell Me Why You Don’t Want Me

Tell me why
you don’t want me.

I know I am
your sweetest heart
and soul.
You wrap about me,
beg me to be
with you
forever,
as though I were
the goddess heaven decreed
could never be yours.
Call me beautiful.
Perform every step
of the dance.

Do it well. Do it handsomely.

And tell me why
you don’t want me.

Mental disorder.
It won’t stand.
You’re just immune
to wanting.
Women just don’t
appeal to you.
You’re above that.

Or you’ve seen
too much.

Or I’m just crazy,
needy, base,
malfunctioning.
Normal men
don’t want
that much.

Then why is it
that I still stand
mouth wide open to the sky
hungry, wailing,
swallowing rain like mana,
empty to my very navel,
empty in my loins,
my marrow,
my bones.

Tell me why
it isn’t
just sex.

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