Not enough

a black and yellow bookmark in shape of a fish

languishing in search of books.

forty seven matchsticks and a bic,

I quit smoking months ago.

a vase gifted on new year’s eve,

adorned with plastic flowers.

a small window in a pithy room,

opens into a wall.

a polaroid waiting in my father’s journal,

it’s protagonists unfamiliar.

a colouring book and a child,

crying for crayons.

two people and years of familiarity,

not enough for a family.

 

 

 

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