Melodic Calm

Noise on a Thursday morning
we're shaking our responsibilities 
and our clothes and our rat-tail hair and our sweat-covered dreams.
He whispers electricity through my ear,  
falling out onto the pillow like the cat's whiskers or his nail clippings.
We watch a bird fly across the, almost, empty, grey sky
and I silently wish we were light
and small, 
could climb upon it's back and fly.

Knock on the door,
I need him to be strong for me. 
Will power is made with plastic and iron and brick
while I long for the breeze, the freedom of the sea.
The weather from the open window flows with the 
warmth of my breath against his skin
pulling him in
just to push him away
and in again.

Three hours later
and he is showered and ready,
doing his duty, persuading me to do mine.
We're in tune to the melodic calm.
We're magnets controlling the unknowing world.
We're no longer two beings searching
we're one being searching out the best
for both worlds
to bring
the melodic calm.