Verse by @ash.faraday

you can hear the whole town breathing at four am i buried the argument in the yard i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries

somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried i still set the table for the ghost of us i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries i still set the table for the ghost of us

i wore your city like a borrowed coat the mirror learned my face by accident we were young and the light was cheap the calendar keeps making promises

the river takes what it is offered the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays