Verse by @otis.lowlight

i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands the tape hissed where your voice should be the tape hissed where your voice should be i buried the argument in the yard

i am learning the names of ordinary things again the bus came and i did not get on we made a home out of almost i am not sorry for the way i loved out loud

i counted every streetlight home i counted every streetlight home somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried i left the door unlocked for a season

the mirror learned my face by accident there is honey in the bottom of the bad years we sang until the neighbors forgave us there is a version of us that stayed

i wore your city like a borrowed coat the lemon tree outlived the marriage nothing holy ever asked for my name you left your jacket on the chair like a promise

summer left its fingerprints on the glass