Verse by @mara.holloway

the cold got into the bones of the house i am learning the names of ordinary things again the mirror learned my face by accident i wore your city like a borrowed coat

i left the door unlocked for a season summer left its fingerprints on the glass the calendar keeps making promises there is a version of us that stayed

my hands still know your kitchen i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries i keep the porch light on for nobody winter came in through the window we never fixed

we sang until the neighbors forgave us you never asked and i never stopped answering i counted every streetlight home i speak to the version of you that listens

the lemon tree outlived the marriage i left the door unlocked for a season