Funny how something/
so simple could be such fun./
I’d do that often.

She had fuzzy socks,/
and cats curled on her lap. I/
wanted to rub them.

“Where are you?” she’d ask./
“Whatcha doin’?” she’d wonder./
I miss her caring.

Queen’s Bohemian/
Rhapsody in the rain means/
I’m driving top down!

Hard rain forces me/
to close the top and rock out/
with windshield wipers.

No resistance to/
humor, she claimed. She turned me/
down; proved otherwise.

The issues I have/
stem from unknown proceedures./
What should I do next?

OR
Can I give her gifts?

Prompted by a discussion thread on Deb Slater’s Eek!Harmony on Facebook
Recovery’s long/
when you’re dumped. But when you dump,/
you feel like garbage.