Love Poems from a Love Virgin

Love Forgets

And then

I step

on

his

sock.

In the hallway.

Again.

Eyes roll,

Temples throb,

And my blood boils bitterly in my veins.

I swear I hate him.

Him

And the socks on the floor

And the dishes in the sink

And the cap separated from the toothpaste tube -

I abhor him

And the home repair channel

And the creased magazine pages

And the cracker crumbs on the bedroom rug.

I loathe him.

And

every

single

step

Is one step closer

to that

last box of milk stealing

used razor on the sink leaving

peach scented lotion pilfering

Won't get a haircut because he can't stand waiting –

And now – 

he's smiling.

That cheek dimpling

heart hugging

resolve crippling

Grin.

The one that reminds me that,

free roaming socks and

decapitated toothpaste tubes

are just the things that Love tends to forget.

That

sneaky

little

bastard.