music of love

what would we do without them? she laughs and tilts her head, water on her cheek. sometimes you want to strangle them, but deep down you love them. looks fondly at her husband asleep, stretched and sore, on the living room carpet. years of farming have injured his back and arm, rendering him unable to shave or sit. we shudder at his snores. she whispers, it's the music of love. we roll our eyes but inwardly ache for the gelatin holding them together.