And now we know why I don't write poetry

He did not begin as my boyfriend
He was once just a roommate
He invariably made messes that I had to clean
And made the apartment smell like “boy”

He turned up his music
When he brought a girl home
And tried to shoo her out
Before I found out there had been another one

He tried to be considerate
Always saving me a slice of pizza
But more often than not
I would’ve preferred the absence of the pizza box and empty bottles

All of that changed during the storm
When the power went out and I thought I was alone
Tree branches knocked and scratched window panes
I melted into his open arms when I realized he was there

He longer turns his music up
When it’s me who is in his bed
And I am now consulted
On all take-out decisions