Verse by @ivy.transistor

we made a home out of almost the sea does not remember any of our names the map was wrong but the walking was right every train sounds like leaving from here

nothing holy ever asked for my name the map was wrong but the walking was right the river takes what it is offered the sky was the color of an unopened letter

i keep the receipts of everything i felt the tape hissed where your voice should be somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried there is a version of us that stayed

there is honey in the bottom of the bad years i wore your city like a borrowed coat i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand