i wasn't expecting

i wasn't expecting

heroics.

and love is this--

working for a wage minimally paid

and washing breakfast and dinner dishes.

scrubbing the shower

with fairy liquid.

a spider lurks in his (our) bathroom

and i track the slugs

through his (our) bedroom.

they got into my boots.

i saw my grandparents

and they said to me

'tell us about your man.'

and he's wonderful, wonderful and sad

and the electric trips

ten times a day

but we have body heat and food to eat.

i cry for my youth

and the vilest of words, 'promising'

we don't promise anything

or profess love.

the internet is broken

and i'm cold and alone

he is the sunshine

that i allow to warm me

but i want him to love me.

and i wasn't expecting

longing to expect

when the world gave them to him.