A stray dog,
curious but reticent,
sniffs a wall, a pole,
watching, detached,
wonders how that
dating thing’s working?
His own life’s reflected
disinterest, disregard
who cares,
who gives a fuck

Cupid never interrupted
nor paid heed.
A smile, a glance
of guile and gullibility,
the fear of giving,
lost in losing,
never receiving,
never living,
until alone

to wave goodbye
at his own
sorry reflection.

Grinning, the thought
sears painfully
through an album
of painful memories

a void of absence,
gaping, accusing,
never losing,

never winning, either.

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2 thoughts on “Stray Dog

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