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