Do You Want To Break Up? Poem by A Waltz For Zizi

In silence I find her
on the edge of a chair,
with her stare galloping across the sky.
She isn't like before.
I figured it out some time ago
in her kiss.
She was always easy to kiss.

Before I wake up, I make sure to make love to her, in my dreams.
She has no idea that I do this,
and don't tell her,
she might hate me.
I'm tired of being hated.

I open my eyes
and find her
making friends with the birds
and on her
more layers of clothes than yesterday
more than any woman should wear.
She hides
because she doesn't love me anymore.
She wants out,
tired of my cage
she thinks that he might be more fit.

Before I ask, she says yes.
I don't argue.
She always knew the question.