The gold, velvet curtains
allow the sun to slip through,
contrasting the flat, make-shift fabric
that used to shield these rays.

Light dances on the fresh paint,
that clings to the sad, bare sheetrock
you shamelessly had on display.

With brushstrokes askew,
and a lively orange hue,
we tried to mask the dents–
remnant of her past rage.

We covered those scars
with our framed memories
and sentimental assets,
now side by side and entwined,
weaving our worlds into one.

This newfound atmosphere
clears the congestion in my chest,
and rejuvenates our spirits,
injecting a freshness
we thirstily absorb.

We're granted a reset,
for we’ve painted vibrance
onto a clean slate.