Doing The Dishes Poem by SOPHIE MAYES

I love the way he sings when he’s doing the dishes
Giving me kisses, doing the dishes
I love the way he looks right into my eyes
He told me he can see every colour, reflected in mine
The way he laughs makes me warm
And his breath on my neck hot
I want to touch him every second, every second that we’ve got!


I hate the way he calls me a pet name that I hate
He still does it now
Soon it will grate
I hate the way he says things and then it’s too late
My patience is wearing thin! How many times can I say!

I hate the way he makes me feel so dam down
We fight all the time then make up like clowns
I hate that I want to see him right now

but what makes me most miserable
what makes my heart drop
is i fear he doesnt feel the same
so i'll just sit here and sob