Her love was a misheard lyric,
deafened by the silibant air
rushing through the cracked
car window on the first date.

It went unoticed at the start—
they made such glorious music
together—the rhythym of libido

and chorus of new infatuation
intertwined into a melody loud
enough to drown out discord

and it wasn’t until the last note
faded to the faint metronome
tick of married life that she first
heard the asynchronous clash

of their voices, and wondered
if it was still possible for them
to discover a new song to sing.