When we packed our things from paint-chipped
cupboards, and made peace with stains of wine on
the carpet- too permanent to move out with us; we
couldn’t help but mourn the laddered led ticks on the
back wall of our washroom, each mark labeled with a
name and year. How I wished I could saw out the
slab of drywall for it knew more than anyone,
what it means to grow.
***
Image: Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
