Let Me

Don’t write about me, you insist. I agree,

knowing full well I will, any

relationship grist for my mill. Funny

how easily I lie, how earnestly

I nod. Look, hurt hurts less

if you squeeze. Pain deadens in surplus.

Beauty trails the leap of the hopeless,

a comet’s fiery tail. You’d never guess

you existed here as subtext if I didn’t

confess. Pride looms its monument

of clouds. Come a wind, a fierce current,

and it rends. You’d be happier if you absented

yourself from yourself. Let me bend

you, your puppeteer, your perfect friend.