What Am I To You? Poem by Sarah Sisson

You met my youthful need.
I will confuse myself with all curiosities…
…of why you took my body…
…and placed it up against to you.
I have no spell that I am aware of.
I do not understand your willingness,
nor do I have any opportunity to ask you.
It is too late.
We have seemingly abandoned the once found lust.
I cannot compare you to any other.
This was, and still is unusual.
My look in the mirror…
…makes me think I have the youthful bliss,
and perhaps it is only with your eyes…
…that I try to see this.
I continue to wonder…
…if you see the real me…
…as I am in the mirrors…
…where I dwell.
Do you regret?
Did I take while you gave into?
A weak moment?