Last night, I awoke, half dazed
only to kick my leg against the wall.
Your painting, which hung so proudly
released from the wall in the collision.
its chalky wood fell hard against my feet
but I was far too lethargic to feel that pain.
Instead, its abrupt removal
triggered some cells within me,
to dream frightfully
of a time you would be gone,
like the fresh painting, which hung so proudly
above me every night.
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