Verse by @port.calloway

i am learning the names of ordinary things again the sea does not remember any of our names the highway hums the way you used to summer left its fingerprints on the glass

we are all somebody else's weather i am learning to be a room with the curtains open you were a rumor i believed twice the bus came and i did not get on

the floorboards keep the score you never asked and i never stopped answering i keep the receipts of everything i felt we sang until the neighbors forgave us

i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand i keep the porch light on for nobody the sky was the color of an unopened letter the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays

you can hear the whole town breathing at four am the tape hissed where your voice should be the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath the moon is a coin i cannot spend

the lemon tree outlived the marriage the field went gold then went to sleep i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet