My Ex-Partner

My ex-partner profited off the Napoleonic wars. They insisted that their shoelaces were tied. Their moon was the size of a pair of blue eagles And they couldn't construct a proper cheesecake.

I sat and listened to their droning about Neptune, Felt their long whiskers pat me on the back As if I could afford to drink ginger tea. Their dog whistled sweet nothings into the void.

Everyone loved them except for you. You didn't know how to play the triangle. That's why I left them for your house of books. Don't you understand? They were an octopus, And you were always seventeen minutes away From the pit of an avocado's frustration.