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.