Like Two Magnets in the Night

Like two magnets in the night, the two lovers repelled away, refusing to relent to the awkward intrusion that had messed up the chance toward perfect easement.

Like two magnets in the night, the two knew they should feel laws of attraction rather than opposition, but to this end there was no measure and surely sleep would settle the score.

Sleep always settles the score, correct?

Nope, each stuck to their side of the bed, teetering through mess, apparent, yet undefinable.

He hanging on the very edge, considering the leap that would throw him off and eventually onto a couch swollen with stains (from juice and cheesy crackers) and barren of the subtle sunken softness a bed provides.

Should he jump? Would this make the split between a succinct cleave for which his vestige would allow rest from said parties a more approachable mean?

She swung to her natural form of slumber, her back to him, also near the end line to cross, but sleep always won on this side of the bed. However, the quality of which was insurmountably vacant.

Like two magnets in the night, repulsed apart until time and talk provided for about face of axis, the two, praying the pulse would continue, even when buried deep within, lay, on their sides, opposite, as if bookends...


while three other bodies lay in between – literally snoring, the thunder outside subsiding and the rain falling off to a shower and eventually a quiet hush.