i found you in your attic
looking through the old boxes of photos
dust floating in a single crack of sunlight
"this place reeks..."
i broke the silence
"it's the smell of antiques"
"antiques have a smell?"
trying to find your sense of humor
"after they're abandoned and go to hell."
you gave up on searching
and for the first time you seemed
to give me your undivided attention
"are we antique?"
i saw that quick squint in your eyes
and i saw when you realized
what i meant
you parted your lips but nothing came out
you gave up searching; but i've found the doubt
that we will never be new again
Points: 890
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