Verse by @sable.crown

the river takes what it is offered the map was wrong but the walking was right i keep the receipts of everything i felt i am learning the names of ordinary things again

i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries the calendar keeps making promises we made a home out of almost i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands

i am the last one at the party fixing the lights we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast i am the last one at the party fixing the lights the kettle screams and i let it