You and I

I pray that I can amuse you today. I am at your service, though I dare not call you friend. I am a faithful servant, thinking only of my master (that is you!) and your well-being. I wear my finest tie so that my appearance might please you. I choose the finest words so that my voice might please you. Undulate. Ennui. Sonorous.

I would lick your feet, but you would not ask me to lick your feet, or your bottom, or inside your bitter ears. You are a good and decent person, who by God's grace has been given mastery over me. You with your glassware in confusing shapes and sizes whose fingerprints I erase with my handkerchief. When I am thirsty, I drink with my hands, which are gnarled and ugly compared to yours.

I am imperfect. I smoke cigarettes, but never around you. I couldn't bear you to think I stink. I smoke in my own quarters, ashamed, and think of you watching me. I shower twice before seeing you, and during the second shower, I use a scented sponge on my feet, armpits, and crotch.

Every word, every action, indeed, my whole being exists to please you, without a trace of irony.