You place me

Underneath

Your telescope eyes

And I fidget and squirm

But it doesn't phase you

Because I'm not

The specimen

Unto which you

Pry

You think you can see

Right through me

You don't need to

Hold it to the light

It's clear

What it is

There's no need

To ponder on the

Inner workings of its

Mind

I'm simple really

No need to magnify

There's no greater design

I'm nothing in comparison,

She's lanthanide

Smug, self-satisfied

You balance me on your

Fingertips

And think to yourself

How could it be delicate?

And if I were to slip from your grasp

So easily can I be replaced

But not the specimen that you're dissecting

For it'll be the end of you and your career should she break

I'm just in the background of the object of your desire

The scenery to her infinitesimal portrait

It's not me you see when you peer through the looking glass

If only your lenses were cleaner

To you, I'm just a petri dish