Sufficient

I came to you out of driving need:
a child’s wailing, howling hunger for bread
and tenderness. You fed me loaves of love
wrapped in wrinkled hands and silver

Now it is my need holds me at bay:
the need to appear slaked,
as one drunk on living water,
or to seem not only sated, but sufficient;

as though one who were whole enough
to live without you would want to.

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