committment phobia

he's so mr. non
committal,
she tells me
with exasperation
over a hot bowl
of clam chowder
at the fish market.
i watch her break
crackers into her steamy
white bowl of chowder.
we've been going out
two weeks now
and I've never
been to his house,
or met his kids, or
even his dog.
he can't even say
I love you
after I say it first.
well, I say,
cautiously, maybe
he's, you know,
just not into you.
that's crazy, she
says. we had sex
five times last weekend.
he told me I had
beautiful eyes.
he is into me.
does he spend
the night, or go home.
I ask, peeling a
shrimp then dipping
it into cocktail
sauce. he has to go
home because of the dog,
she says,
blowing on her spoon
of soup before
slurping it down.
do you think you might
be rushing things
a little. love takes
time. I mean you just
broke up with jimmy
three weeks ago
and you said the same
things about him.
I don't know she says,
men are all alike,
they all have commitment
phobia and want just
one thing. can I
have one of your shrimp,
she asks, reaching
over to take one
off my plate.