To Marry A Poet

"Never marry a poet", she said. "When the kiss you, they are thinking not of you, but of the words they can write about your lips. When they whisper to you at night, they are imagining metaphors with which to capture your thighs. They forget to clean the sink when they're done cooking dinner, because they're busy writing similes, and they forget to vaacum because they're too busy rhyming."
"So why do you stay?" I asked.
"Because one day, I might become his masterpiece."