Complacency

Rancidity
Effuses into every relationship
After a while of contented calm-
Or so, I've heard.
And I'd never believed so.
In the aloofness of matrimony,
Where we are together
Yet so very far away,
Where conversations limit
To calls at mealtimes,
And occasional discussions
About the family budget cuts,
Bills to be paid,
Kid's school and studies.
A rare night of passion strained,
When we slip into sleep,
With no endearment,
Nor any goodnight kiss.
Is it the dearth of love
In us, I've often wondered-
Yet, I know deep down,
We can't stop loving.
Its a gradual transient fading away
Of expressions of love,
Enfolding of endearments
Into the hidden realms,
Of life's casket-
And in the hazy furl of everyday,
We lose our moments
Of sweet nothings.
Rancidity, some term it so.
I call it, the comfortable complacency
Of being in love,very much so-
Knowing, we'd understand,
And we'd swim across,
Today, and forever.