Yesterday while doing yoga

an old pain resurfaced in my sacrum

a drunken piggy-back ride

on a grassy knoll.

He had a girlfriend at home

they look lovely together.

I can’t blame him for resisting me,

rather the opposite.

But you.

I broke up with you in August

you said nobody would ever love me

as much as you did.

By September 

you were in bed 

with your insane

long-legged poet.

I had to hear 

        all

     about it

on the drive back.

You come to the

City to see her

sneakily

and don’t even bring me my stuff.