and again i'll find
a trinket
of hers,
an earring, a clasp
from a bracelet,
a contact lens,
beneath the bed, or
a strange
looking pill,
a receipt, or a shoe.
all left behind,
clues
of some ancient
history
i used to know.
layers of sediment
and sentiment.
it's an
archaeology
dig, unveiled with
each pull
of the hoover vacuum.
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