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11/22/2009 5:22:19 AM
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The honeymoon is over And he has left for work Whistling something obvious from La Boheme And carrying a brown calfskin attache case I never dreamed he was capable of owning, Having started the day With ten pushups and a cold shower Followed by hearty breakfast. (What do we actually have in common?) The honeymoon is over And I am dry-mopping the floor In a green Dacron dry-mopping outfit from Saks, Wondering why I'm not dancing in the dark, Or rejecting princes, Or hearing people gasp at my one-man show, My god, so beautiful and so gifted! (The trouble is I never knew a prince.) The honeymoon is over And we find that dining by candlelight makes us squint, And that all the time I was letting him borrow my comb and hang up his wet raincoat in my closet I was really waiting To stop letting him. And that all the time He was saying how he loved my chicken pot pie, He was really waiting To stop eating it. (I guess they call this getting to know each other.) Judith Viorst
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