Infatuation

I scribble your name all over
My notebook adorned with clumsy hearts
And unshining stars.
I lay on a naked mattress protected
By a ring of photographs
I took of you
when you weren’t looking.
Suddenly jolt awake.
I realise this is what happens
When you worship false idols.
I spent an age waiting
For you to open your eyes.
Then finally you see.
You lay there on a bed
Of glittering silver,
Muted by an apple as green
As your eyes offering yourself
To my goddess.
And I know.
I don’t need you anymore.