i wish 
i wasn’t flattered 
by the paper crown 
woven through your eggshell hair

i wish
i wasn’t flattered 
by the amber saliva 
dripping from your peppered tongue 

i wish 
i wasn’t flattered 
by the flowering impulsiveness 
writhing against your dried eardrums 

i wish 
i wasn’t flattered
by the seasoned goblet
gripped between your slender fingers

i wish
i wasn’t flattered 
by the sightless venom 
slithering towards my bare ankles 

because we all know flattery is for the weak.