Verse by @nell.paperback

the moon is a coin i cannot spend i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands your laugh survives in the hallway i keep apologizing to furniture

we are all somebody else's weather i keep the porch light on for nobody i buried the argument in the yard the lemon tree outlived the marriage

i still set the table for the ghost of us the highway hums the way you used to my hands still know your kitchen summer left its fingerprints on the glass

i am the last one at the party fixing the lights the bus came and i did not get on i keep the receipts of everything i felt my hands still know your kitchen

my mother taught me how to fold a grudge i still set the table for the ghost of us i saved the last cigarette for a braver night i left the door unlocked for a season

my mother taught me how to fold a grudge the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath