Worn

The clothes still smelled like you,
the scent that meant you had slept in them.
A mix of unspoken dreams,
and a warm embrace.

I could feel myself leaning into it.
Soaking in the hours in bed,
that we had spent curled together.
Entwined in a desperate prayer.

I had this dream once,
kids running between our legs.
Laughter ringing through our house,
but now all I have are clothes.

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