Verse by @opal.static

i still set the table for the ghost of us summer left its fingerprints on the glass i counted every streetlight home i speak to the version of you that listens

the sky was the color of an unopened letter there is a version of us that stayed the moon is a coin i cannot spend the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays

the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors i keep the receipts of everything i felt the sky was the color of an unopened letter the floorboards keep the score

your laugh survives in the hallway my mother taught me how to fold a grudge