He Saw the Woman--Anima

A parasite, attached and fed on blood, Within the woman he began his growth As did his hunger and defining form. And, writhing, flailing in a cushioned sea, He felt her warmth but could not feel her pain. When she evicted him he screamed himself. He found the woman ripe with mother's milk When he, a helpless weight of hungry flesh Could only state his need in wordless wail. He saw the woman as his one way back To that Edenic womb that pacifies Without exacting anything from him. A gawky, fumbling youth--he saw her then As needed proof for who and what he was-- A hunted hunter, judged by what he caught. Then, lubricated in the coupling dance Of life and death, he trembled, numb and spent, Unsure of anything but repetition. He saw the woman as the looming lure, An addict's fix, another hungry other, Devouring worlds to justify existence. He saw how unity, a moment given In ecstasy of two becoming one Could not make jealous any timeless god. And, too, he saw her as a missing piece Of puzzles of the image of himself, As something joining isolated themes. It will not do to ask where his sight failed. He saw within the hurts of who he was. His cruelest lies were those he needed most.