Man, Dog, and Wife

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 🌺

Her Black Mirrors

She struggled to sit,
bones shivering,
staggered—

A feeble growl
a warning, stay back.
I held her eyes—
black as shungite,
two mirrors of agony,
pleading.

I’d pray against needles,
a quiet, natural end.
I couldn’t—

She battled upright,
for one last exchange.
Her blackest pools
reflected death itself,
hurling an awl into my heart.

I knew.
It was time—
her—to go,
mine—to let her go.

Now,
no barks for a mailman,
a leash chimes on a hanger,
a tennis ball cornered in silence.

And I—
I still see her pain,
engraved in my eyelids.
Two mirrors—
death staring, haunting—
burned into me
like black ice.

© 2025 WolverineLily 🌺

Author’s Note:
It’s been years; time has moved on, yet this has never left me.