There’s a certain magic in the little things
The unrelated, disconnected things
The smell of ageing paper
The spotted tie your father wore
That old photograph you forgot you had
The crack in the wall you’d not noticed before
Those green suspenders
A gift from your cousin Mike
The pink ribbon tied to silver spokes
Of your childhood bike
The gentle scratch of the metal toothed comb
As your mother parted your hair
The smell of strong black tea
That always hung in the morning air
The song whose words you got wrong
But always played on repeat
The patched up tear on your sleeve
The pothole in the middle of the street
These things unrelated
The things you forgot you had
Are the things that remind you
That you too, are quite capable of love.

Chiseche

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