Nov. 1st, 2010

rhiannonstone: (the real me)
Once again, Jonathan Carroll posts beautiful poetry that pierces me right through the heart. I am always worried about being too much.

The Too Much
Christa Bell

I
Couldn’t have been more beautiful
Than I was last night.
I couldn’t have been sexier,
Juicier,
Or more luscious.
My ass couldn’t have been bigger
Or glowed more brightly.
My teeth couldn’t have been whiter,
Skin softer,
Hair shinier.
I couldn’t have smelled any sweeter,
Been nicer,
Skinnier,
Funnier,
Or more holy.

And still I was not enough
For you.
‘Not enough,’
My friends tell me,
Will never be my issue.
They say it’s ‘the too much’
That leaves lovers like me
Strangled by our own question marks.

You see—
Some women love lightly,
Like whispers wrapped in spun sugar.
And these are the ones who make it so hard
For the blue-black molasses
Ever-lasting taffy kind of love
That overwhelms the tongue.
They make it hard for those of us who,
Due to circumstances beyond our control,
Are destined to always
Over-love with a vengeance. Read more... )

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