- Pick me up, you know this song
The world suddenly crumbled into patterns of blue feathers and ice roses on her cheeks, so she kept him there clenched between her thighs like an instrument, her fingers curling in the nape of his neck like she was holding a tune. Her muscles are clenching, teeth grinding. There is a small puddle on his collarbone while she screams that it never stops and his lips vibrates on her neck in shushes.
- Screw the lyrics, hum along.
He’s making one of their jokes and she laughs and says “my silly man” her words are laced with tiredness. He strokes her hair and kiss her cheek, telling her it’ll be alright and she scoffs, of course it will, it just doesn’t seem like it right now. He does the dishes and she paints her nails while singing along to a song he doesn’t like.
- I thought I knew your music until now.
Listening to him sleep and she can’t seem to breath deep enough. She is tracing fingertips down his shoulders and leaning her cheek to the place where his back curves outwards slightly. She thinks maybe it’s a cruel lie they tell each other that everything will be fine, but she needs the lie more than he does and she also needs to sleep. So she closes her eyes and tries to synchronise her breaths.
- Pick me up, I don’t know how.