A single piece of red glitter marks the start of the trail from where you were to where you are
Like some queer hansel and gretel.
I follow you through the old house that is a different kind of home now
To another city
To my bed
My kitchen
My bathroom
I look down, a piece is stuck to my chest
My inner thigh
It's been days now
I've showered
Changed
Still, there it is
I look to the side, a piece is on my pillow
In that place that your head rested when you reached through the dark for me
But they're just breadcrumbs
And the children are already in the oven
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