It was knowing
that the bed was once ours,
shared between two;
and it's knowing now
that that's no longer the case
that wrings at the neck.
Facing truth upon truth
about love and what wasn't
we part two ways
never to meet,
leaving the bed we shared
to be shared by another.
And perhaps with time
its significance would be null
but for now it's a symbol
of what perfection is
and what really
was not to be attained.
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