smashed between the mattress and the wall
smells like a day's sweat, like fresh deodorant,
like the strumming pangs of missing you.
White fabric and a faded design
linger in the cold aftermath of departure,
a memento of the nights prior.
This is the fuse that lights fireworks.
This is the inspiration that moves mountains.
This is the start of change.
This is love.
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