“I think I like this little life”
and a gentle guitar melody
plucks through my brain
as I scrub an ungodly layer of dirt and dust 
off of the bathroom baseboard,
we really need to update the place.  

I think I like this little life, 
and a sigh escapes my lips
as I stare at the mountain of dishes
I can’t bring myself to help my husband with.

I think I like this little life, 
as our laughter shakes the walls,
echoing in our skulls as our brains rattle
from the seismic activity
of our joy–
we wrestle and play,
acting like children
who have just discovered
The Spear and the 6-1-9.

I think I like this little life,
as we cry and fight,
our passion bubbling over,
our issues spilling into each other’s cups
until neither of can hold another drop
and we shatter.

I think I like this little life, 
and we dance in the kitchen,
dodging the dogs’ paws,
holding each other,
breathing in scents entirely our own. 
He farts. 
I burp. 
We laugh and continue to dance
‘neath a city of stars
and our music reverberates
in our neighbor’s walls. 
We’ll apologize tomorrow. 
Tonight, 
we are finding solace in,
and loving
our little life.