Building character

float up to the rafters
smoke rings circling
chasing each other like the ghosts of butterflies
tired cursing drifts in this space
empty of us
it feels our lack
having never known our touch
this room settles
for other occupants
yearning for a family
one built into its planks and nails
one it never knew
just these poor substitutes
happy couples living happy lives
all candyfloss and no butterscotch

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