More Routine than Romance

What happened to the sudden flush and quickened pulse
when I’d see you waiting on the corner?
What happened to the conversations long into the night
broken only by the urgency of our desires?
What happened to those sweet ‘miss you’ calls,
made minutes after parting, and little notes left on my pillow?

How did we get from there to here, where sex
is hasty, silent exercise maybe once or twice a week,
and the only notes are shopping lists:
“remember cat food, and your suit is at the cleaners”.
This love affair has become more routine than romance.

When did I stop smiling fondly at your toothbrush resting
next to mine; a symbol of our harmony?
When did we start postponing anniversary dinners,
and the intimacy of lingered meals by candlelight?
When did the scattered clothing cease to signal
passion which we so wantonly and hurriedly expressed?

How did we get from there to here, where towels
on the bathroom floor are a recurring irritation,
and freely scattered all around the bed
are books and papers which we turn to late at night.
This love affair has become more routine than romance.

And yet there’s comfort still in all of this;
in the constancy and certainty of you being close at hand,
and the tightness of the bond between us which
has grown so strong from deeper understanding.
Our love affair now has routine as icing on the romance cake.