Verse by @mara.holloway

i am learning the names of ordinary things again the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath there is a version of us that stayed there is a version of us that stayed

summer left its fingerprints on the glass i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet i buried the argument in the yard

the mirror learned my face by accident my hands still know your kitchen i wore your city like a borrowed coat the tape hissed where your voice should be

i speak to the version of you that listens the field went gold then went to sleep the radio only plays the parts i remember the calendar keeps making promises