She was a dog

I had a dog once

I loved him, I’m sure.

And I’m certain

That he loved me too.

I’m certain of this

Because he loved

Everyone

He met

Because everyone

He met

Loved him.

That is a lovely way to live

If you can manage it.

It’s easier, I guess

For a dog.

But it always made me wonder

Did my dog love me

Just the same as he loved

Everyone else?

Did it matter if he did

Or if he didn’t

Isn’t love, love?

She was like that

In more than one way.

I loved her, I’m sure

And I’m certain that

She loved me too.

But did she just love me

As she loved everyone else?

Maybe it shouldn’t have

Mattered

But it cheapened it for me

To receive this generic love

When my love

Was designed

Manufactured

Delivered

Just for her

It occurs to me

As I write these words

That I can’t even remember

Who I’m writing them about

And if I’m certain

I mean them

And I’m certain

She exists

Then why don’t I remember

Why she matters to me

Anymore