A dog bargained with a man:
“Feed me. Pet me. Shelter me.
I will be faithful.”
It wagged its tail,
barked at shadows,
guarded the door.
Then the man brought home a woman.
She gave her body
and her years. Faithful.
God’s breath made a woman.
Man’s hand bound a wife.
The dog was crowned with a collar.
The wife, shackled with a ring.
The dog roamed through the meadows;
she labored for the children.
The pet slept at the master’s feet;
she knelt, scrubbing the floors.
When the dog’s teeth sank into his flesh,
the wound faded into a story—
a joke retold,
the bite forgiven with time.
But her words cut deeper than fangs
and kept the wound open.
She was damned forever.
The dog remained man’s best friend,
while the wife crystallized
her loneliness
into diamond.
© 2026 WolverineLily 🌺
Wolverine Lily 
There are some wonderfully rhythmic stanzas in this poem that make it a joy to read and re-read. However, the tone is deceptive. I really liked how you dealt with the nature of free will (and the lack thereof) with both the dog and the woman. You even nodded to the deterministic nature of theology in terms of the sexes, uniting it with the nature of a marriage, or a surrender of will.
I have a friend who lives in a state where she cannot have a particular surgery without her husband’s permission. Such things remind me of the Chinese tradition of young women wearing special shoes to create a deformity called “lotus feet.” It was once the height of feminine beauty. I can hear a Mom say: “You ain’t gonna get no man unless you bind up them feet.”
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