This is a revision of a poem I wrote to an older prompt a while back. I've tried to gussy it up a bit and put in the
Eclectica words.
Why My Body
Because I've made it a temple
and worshipped at its altar.
Because I've filled it with secrets
and let it nurse my sorrows.
Because it can't follow directions,
a slave to delay and meander.
Because I've tried to conceal it,
desiring the bodies of others.
Because I've scraped and scarred it,
teaching it needless lessons.
Because it expels good intentions
like hard, black seeds of illusion.
Because it grows soft and loose-fitting
mocking my ministrations.
Because of the thorn in its rouged cheek,
the taste of blood in its mouth.
Because I cannot control it
and don't know how to escape it.
Because I'll always resent it,
and always have to love it.
I don't know why the Spellchecker here thinks that worshipped is wrong. It can be spelled either worshipped or worshiped, but the latter sure looks wrong to me.
Why My Body
Because I've made it a temple
and worshipped at its altar.
Because I've filled it with secrets
and let it nurse my sorrows.
Because it can't follow directions,
a slave to delay and meander.
Because I've tried to conceal it,
desiring the bodies of others.
Because I've scraped and scarred it,
teaching it needless lessons.
Because it expels good intentions
like hard, black seeds of illusion.
Because it grows soft and loose-fitting
mocking my ministrations.
Because of the thorn in its rouged cheek,
the taste of blood in its mouth.
Because I cannot control it
and don't know how to escape it.
Because I'll always resent it,
and always have to love it.
I don't know why the Spellchecker here thinks that worshipped is wrong. It can be spelled either worshipped or worshiped, but the latter sure looks wrong to me.
