I traced the cracks of the embossed leather on the headboard of your bed with the tips of my finger.

I noticed the cracks of your bedroom door, flakes of wood chipping due to lack of maintenance.

I feel the cracks of your lips everytime you are close enough to take a whiff at the back of my ears, then making your way down to the sweet spot.

You told me what supposedly is your most sacred place reflects who you are – empty.

Then, I realized the biggest crack is in your heart.

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