I remain

Like a lone thread on the hem of your ironed shirt

Like the stubborn lint on your otherwise perfect coat

Like the scruffy smudge on your newly polished black shoe

Like the slight scratch on the glass of your vintage watch.

Until you decide to pull that last bit of thread

Until you brush off that remaining ball of lint

Until you finally replace your scruffed shoes

Until you have the glass on your watch buffed like new

Only then will I believe that we are through.