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His bedroom was leaden-grey, 
with curtains drawn tight.
He needed someone for the night to make a pair.
But I wasn't always the right one.
I knew by perfume scenting the sheets,
or make-up left on a table.
Yet, I wasn't able to leave 
and make a fresh start. 
Coming from work, he'd offer a drink,
then the rest would fall into place. 
Along with myself trying to replace
that other half.
I didn't realize until too late,
two halves don't always meet 
to form a whole.