There is a two-ton elephant in the room
when I try to talk to my boyfriend.
No, the elephant in the room is not my boyfriend,
but the things left unsaid by him.
I want to talk about feelings.
He wants to watch basketball.
I want a little romance when he takes me out.
He wants to watch football.
I want to talk about our future together.
He wants to watch hockey.
I know I love him, and I think he loves me,
though he is not exactly the verbal type.
I wish he’d look at me as much
as he looks at that damn TV.
Even when we make out,
there is very little talk.
I swear he still has his eyes on the set.
The elephant is still in the room with us,
sitting between us, pushing us
to the far, separate corners of the couch.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME