Faith Like Something Sinking
you breathe her in like
a half-drowned man breathes air
touch her the same way he
digs his fingers into the soil
you sing her praises as
a devout man praises his god
treat her the way
he would weep at the alter
but lately she doesn’t
text you back
her fridays and weekends are
booked solid through the month
you call as she’s about to
head out the door
you buy her roses and
later that day spot them in the trash
you agree to meet her in a food court
she has a look in her eye
your stomach knots and
you wish you didn’t understand
she says “we need to talk”
in the same tone as your vet
when your dog died in surgery
you wish you didn’t understand