Verse by @ash.faraday

the sky was the color of an unopened letter the lemon tree outlived the marriage the river takes what it is offered i saved the last cigarette for a braver night

the birds do not know we broke up somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried i am not sorry for the way i loved out loud i keep the receipts of everything i felt

i put the whole year in one suitcase you were a rumor i believed twice the dog still waits by the door at six i still set the table for the ghost of us

you can hear the whole town breathing at four am i wore your city like a borrowed coat we sang until the neighbors forgave us the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors

i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand the kettle screams and i let it the dog still waits by the door at six

the sea does not remember any of our names there is a version of us that stayed