Verse by @sunny.delacroix

the sky was the color of an unopened letter the sky was the color of an unopened letter i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands your laugh survives in the hallway

you can hear the whole town breathing at four am we are all somebody else's weather there is a version of us that stayed i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries

the river takes what it is offered summer left its fingerprints on the glass you never asked and i never stopped answering we made a home out of almost

i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand i am learning to be a room with the curtains open the dog still waits by the door at six there is honey in the bottom of the bad years

summer left its fingerprints on the glass the tape hissed where your voice should be summer left its fingerprints on the glass i am the last one at the party fixing the lights

the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath i still set the table for the ghost of us