Lovesick
I have become your little lovesick chihuahua
over the span of a spring time romance
room to room I follow you;
the trail of your thoughts,
the turning of your heart,
and the gaze of your desires
at other bitches in heat
day by day I long for you;
lifting my fragile head
from a cushioned marriage
jerking at the slightest footstep
of a text or a searching look
in my feeble direction.
but you no longer come home
to pat my hair
or sort out my tangles.
you only take them in your fist
like a tight leash
when we make love
and the rhythm is only punctured
by the intermittent moans
of a dying feminist