GROVEL

I grovel before my memory of you, wishing.
If I had not put in so many hours into my career...
If I had only put up with more of your lies...
would you have still left me?

I have met women
less smart, and more honest than you,
and I have loved them less
than I loved you.

I lay on my back, at night, outside,
throwing tennis balls at the stars.
I get up,
the dew wetting the shirt on my back,
not relieved of my wretched aching.

I return to my home
With my life still feeling emptied
without you.