Anatomy of Relations

My dog spills cloudy breaths
while scratching along the fence,
comfort in the caress of chalk wood
amongst neglected fur.

You purge bile into conversation
as you casually inhale the cigar,
resurrected sorrow in form of
informal goodbyes.

I wonder why the men of my life
circle me, beg to be pet, their
classless tongues dangle
drool over commonality.

I adore, I give too much,
I ignore, I label them runts.
What middleman designed a route?
Surely I belong in the texture of farewells.