Verse by @nell.paperback

winter came in through the window we never fixed the sky was the color of an unopened letter the river takes what it is offered the map was wrong but the walking was right

somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried your laugh survives in the hallway i counted every streetlight home the radio only plays the parts i remember

i am learning to be a room with the curtains open i still set the table for the ghost of us i buried the argument in the yard i am the last one at the party fixing the lights

i am the last one at the party fixing the lights i keep the receipts of everything i felt