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Wet Paint
We roll the paint onto your ceiling
The bright sunny yellow
A vast improvement from the dull white
The ceiling used to be
We stick our hands in the bucket
And allow them to become immersed
In the cheerful color
Lifting them out
We press them against the wall
Of your bedroom
Our marks to show that we were there
Handprints
Not even ten layers of paint can cover up
A friendship
Forever a part of us
And your wall
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