I saw a giraffe in the zoo today;
long, elegant, graceful and mean—
just how I remember her, Acacia, my ex—
“You bulimic giraffe,” she’d say.
I’m a hard person to love, I know;
So she tagged my every eccentricity as thus—
as something absurd as a giraffe regurgitating.
Even now, I still don’t get it—
“It’d take a giraffe forever to puke?” I’d ask
She’d nod, her head seesawing across
her long, beaded neck, and say,
“It’d take a giraffe longer than it’d take me
to get used to your oddities—”
In contrast, it took her less time to leave me
than it takes a giraffe to nap,
That’s why I changed her name from Rose to Acacia.