May 29, 2015
It is Friday evening,
Once again she has gotten her hopes up
Far beyond any reasonable expectation
She will hope for a happy greeting,
Not too much, nor too little,
She should have expected
no acknowledgment
Secretly she still does
She will hope to be hugged
With no expectation of reciprocity
She will hope to just feel loved.
She should have expected no contact
With any hug or kiss as immediate prelude
to meaningless groping
She will hope for mutual conversation
Respectful and equal in part,
She should expect to be spoke to, not to speak
Lest, she wish to be corrected on et al, mid-clause
She will hope to sleep soundly,
Next to the one she love,
She should expect loneliness,
She should expect complacency with loveless-ness
She should expect, nothing,
But nothing
She should not have to expect
to keep expecting all of this.
She of Letters 