Verse by @kai.ashland

you were a rumor i believed twice the moon is a coin i cannot spend the calendar keeps making promises the map was wrong but the walking was right

the kettle screams and i let it the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors the radio only plays the parts i remember you left your jacket on the chair like a promise

you never asked and i never stopped answering the dog still waits by the door at six i speak to the version of you that listens my hands still know your kitchen

we sang until the neighbors forgave us i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands the sky was the color of an unopened letter i wore your city like a borrowed coat