What’s left of this bedroom’s essence is the lack of her presence. I repositioned my emotions about the charred furniture of my failure under a shallow grave, where I buried my innocence and her facade to the applause of the voices in my head. A sly smile twitched at the corner of my mouth, reflecting on her amused gaze when she demolished the house we shared presented warmth; the warmth of her behind me. Our relationship cools with the tides that wash over our sins.

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