2022 Hour 8: Wet Paint

The paint wasn’t dry yet, she left a mark
where her hand lifted the white, letting what was beneath peek through

disrupting the order of a fresh coat
the boy had just finished spreading on the fence
with even brush strokes along each wooden plank

they were going to start over
sell the home they shared for twenty years

leave behind the swallowed words, the shattered dreams
pretend it never happened

a new image emerged
the paint wasn’t dry yet, she left a mark

they decided they would start over
move to a new state and leave behind the pain
of years of pretending the heartbreak was not shared

He stood at the threshold waiting for her when he heard
the car pulled away, only her handprint on the fence remained 

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