The people I am trying to know
sense my ulterior motives
even when I do not.
They know, somehow,
that I only want them
for their beauty or wealth,
their strength of arms or skill with a stick.
They can tell all my mischievous purposes
in seeking to meet them
even when I believe that I simply seek to them out
for they themselves.

There is always a catch
always some special thing that I want
from each and every one
a particular part that attracts me
that makes me want to bring them into my web
and make them one of my creatures
so I can be attached
to something of worth.

And these worthy people
being worthy
see me for what I am:
a hanger-on
a succubus
a leech of the least degree
and they realize eventually
that they should treat me as such

apparently.