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when he leaves

even if for only half a day

there’s a feeling of a door left open

of windows wide

and the air freezing the curtains

the walls shiver

and fail to whisper to each other

the floors mourn

and the air is in a mood

there’s a thing about ┬áhim leaving

it reminds me of dried up grounds

where wells once swam

but the sun bids farewell

and i hear the tap of his shoes

the door shuts

and the windows clasp their hands

the rain sweeps into the soil

life re-enters the spaces within me

around me

he, mine, returns

and once again

wrapped in his warm breath

i’m home

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