The King by Mark Strand

I went to the middle of the room and called out,
“I know you’re here,” then noticed him in the corner,
looking tiny in his jeweled crown and his cape
with ermine trim.
“I have lost my desire to rule,”
he said.
“My kingdom is empty except for you,
and all you do is ask for me.” “But Your Majesty-”
“Don’t ‘Your Majesty’ me,” he said,
and tilted his head
to one side and closed his eyes.
“There,” he whispered,
“that’s more like it”, and he entered his dream
like a mouse vanishing into its hole.