A familiar aftertaste I chanced upon once more
Roused my alert commanding me, to swiftly escape.
In the opposite direction fast and far
Evoking poisons I ingested thrice before.
Survival a mere benison of my purity.
Though my mind and spirit often dwell
This time I ineluctably recognise the recurring signs,
As the world appears to be revolving
Solely around him leaving me, outside.
A magic of his doing as he masterfully neglects
The existence of myriad creatures except his,
Flaunting highlights of his character the zeniths
Of his life, as he desperately seeks to hide
What he hates about himself.
An improvised narcissism imbued with egocentrism
Flouting others to feel better about himself.
A clumsy extroversion concealing
A need for recognition to which I perversely respond.
There is my flaw! With sophisticated compliments
I praise his intelligence, a sensibility, sham compassion,
Give him my time, inundate him with tender emotions,
For he likes feeling loved yet hardly ever believes
He truly is.
What an extraordinary foible I crystallised last night
As I retraced the inclinations of my past lovers.
On this fourth round I finally identify my talent
In making people feel loved,
Impulsively feeding their weaknesses and pride
To the point they start believing,
They adore me in return.
[Featured painting: Entropy of Love by Adam Howie]