Do not cast your callused eyes on me
Or prick me with your discontent.
Have you built me this pedestal
Only to see me fall from it?
Do not stroke me with desire
And tell me how you delight in me,
For I doubt that I could bear
To hear you deceive yourself any longer.
How can I be your Amazon Queen
When you are no longer my Dragon Chaser?
Am I to be your Shadow Lover
Even as you turn to embrace the Light?
No, I cannot be your Aphrodite
Nor you my Dark Enchanter.
Those things are of the past
And have no relevance,
And you have no hold on me
Other than this weak tug-of-war:
Regret versus Indecision.
