Like A Dog

I loved her —
Gave up opportunities
Places
And people
To be closer to her

And I remembered
Every opportunity, place, and person
I gave up to be near her

And it wasn’t just her —
There were others
None quite like her
But still
I acted the same

Squandered fortunes —
For what
For the name of a relationship

That’s what it was always for —
Mother, father, sister, brother
Partner, daughter, son
Friend, neighbour —

Always, there was someone —
Mine
Someone I loved —
Or thought I did

Believing that squandering
Gifts, sacrifices, small generosities —
Proved my love
Or at least, my need to love

Maybe it was reciprocity —
A kind of investment
A purchase, really —
Of someone’s heart
Their mind
Their loyalty

An unstated rule saying
If I do this
Or have done this —
Then surely
I’d get the same
In return

Time for time
Passion for passion
Sacrifice for sacrifice
Understanding — for understanding

Or maybe — in some rare cases —
There was no desire for return
None, at least, on the surface
But even then
There was always the memory
Of what was forsaken
Given up

And what happened
In all but a few cases

Blood is always thicker —
Or so they say
Usually
But come to think of it

Blood cost the most, too
Took the most
Gave back —
Only words

What bound me — tied me —
Still does —
There’s no glue on the skin
No tether I can see
No magnet, no iron
That draws me

What then
Familiarity —
Some vow I don’t remember making
Some infection I cherish —
Unseen, unnamed

Or maybe just
Habit
Like smoking —
I keep going back
For the same hit
Even knowing
It’s no good

Discomfort
Spare time
Even good news —
And there it is
The trusted old companion

A drink —
Smoke —
A special relationship
The same old words

But there must be something more
What’s beneath — the habit

Yes —

To some forgotten feeling
A reaching
Like a newborn
Reaching for the breast

Or a grown man
Besotted
With it

To see — to hold —
What’s hidden
Rationed

What belongs to —
But cannot be given
By the other

Like a pillow that feeds —
Then slips
From beneath your head
And you keep searching
Looking for it —

In words, in people
In objects, shapes and places

And still, it’s not that you don’t know
You know
No person, no object
Can satisfy

But you are like a dog —
Jumping, running
After a stick
Enamoured —
Just by the form

Even if the chase
Lands you in a ditch — or worse

But what could be worse
Than chasing forever

Maybe the chase
Isn’t to possess —
But to kill
Devour the form

So that you’re never
Bound to it again