Why Karen Left Miguel Poem by Sonny Rainshine

I am neither violet nor villanelle,
not a torso nor a bust. I am flesh
and feeling; I perspire
when you make love to me,
and my face contorts
as I surrender to the agonizing
mysteries of love.

When you see me, you don’t.
It is a mirage, a collage of femininity,
culled from the yellowing pages
of 19th century novels—
I am not Mme. Bovary.

It is not Anna Karinina who leaves you,
Do svidaniya! Goodbye, comrade;
it is Karen, your high school sweetheart.
Remember me?