Verse by @ash.faraday

i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand the sea does not remember any of our names the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath

i speak to the version of you that listens i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet i keep the porch light on for nobody the kettle screams and i let it

i love you in the tense that has no word summer left its fingerprints on the glass i am practicing being the kind of quiet you can stand you left your jacket on the chair like a promise