The Apple Of His Eye Poem by Mary Champion

He turns me on!
An electric current
courses through my veins.
His fingers lightly brush my skin
and I am his slave.
I reveal all that he desires of me
and much that he has no interest in.

Sometimes he speaks to me:
peremptory commands
that I endeavour to obey.
But sometimes I misunderstand.
Then he laughs -
mocking my shortcomings
or abusing me for wasting time.

He has little interest in my needs.
Why should he?
He paid dearly for the privilege of owning me.

I have no inhibitions -
whatever brings him pleasure
I will provide.
Amoral by nature,
I do not judge him.
But I know I can satisfy him
in ways his wife never can.
Yet I do not weep or plead when he lays me aside;
shares me with another
or trades me in for a trendier model.
My heart is unbreakable.

This is a one-way love affair,
he just uses me.
I know that
but no wonder-
for he is just a man
and I am an i-pad.