Sad little sycophant
hanging on my every utterance
arranging your world
to suit my slightest whim

I was certain
this would be just the ticket
the veriest possible thing
in a friend
in a lover
in a slave

but it turns out
that you alternate
between boring me
shaming me
and nauseating me -

I can barely look at you
and still respect myself.

Then I blink
and return to seeing you
through my own worshipful eyes

instead of seeing myself
through yours.

12/02/2005

Posted on 02/26/2007
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