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this rattling window
which squeaks when I open it,
the one I prop open with a book
to let in summer air
and listen to you
strimming the lawn.

these old doors
which hide old rooms
and cobwebbed corners,
where memories have been forgotten
and remembered.

this peeling wallpaper
scratched woodwork

these leaking taps
rusty radiators

cracks like laughter lines

and you
and me