Dear Husband

We don’t have a lot of time for just us

but we have our little hour.

Between 7 and 8.

Sometimes it’s less

Sometimes it’s more

It all becomes silent, apart from the humming fridge

Or the dishes screaming at us

Or our bed that calls for sleep

I know the day is a freight train through our brains and our eyes are tired.

And our love is quiet.

I don’t need all the things,

Like flowers, or jewellery...

Just how you look at me in my dressing gown

that really needs a wash.

Or the last piece of chocolate.

Or how you seem so taken when I tell you

‘I love you’

like it’s the first time you’ve heard it.

Like you see me.

Like I see you and not all the tasks I need you to do.

While the extension of our love rests down the hallway,

let’s cuddle up.

Let’s not decide on a movie.

Let’s say everything

And nothing.

Until one of us yawns

Until one of them needs us

Let’s just be us

The old and the new.

For our little hour.