The Companion

He was private, emblematic of himself, and she carried him
Locked in his own cell.  She had him compressed to a tiny
Spot no bigger than a mole, too small to detail.  But his
Real size was cavernous, like a galaxy too expansive to cross
And his brightness was enormous, blinding, so bright
She couldn't help but stare and hurt her eyes.  He was such
A small stain on her back, an inkspot, something that 
Despite all her rubbing she couldn't clean.  He was her
Companion and he had no intention of leaving.

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