Nothing's asked
and very little said
two strangers lie
on either side of the bed.

Life ticks on
Like a rusted clock
to the eerie routine
all dreams are fed.

Yet there's a spark
that lights a fire or two
in the moonless night
it shines like a dew.

Morning comes
and rings the bell
pushing the tiny sparks
into hell.

And life ticks on
like a rusted clock.
Two Strangers live
on each side of their bed.