Verse by @cass.overgrow

the map was wrong but the walking was right the kettle screams and i let it i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors

we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast i buried the argument in the yard i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries the moon is a coin i cannot spend

the tape hissed where your voice should be the moon is a coin i cannot spend i left the door unlocked for a season i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands

there is a version of us that stayed every train sounds like leaving from here we sang until the neighbors forgave us the calendar keeps making promises

the lemon tree outlived the marriage every train sounds like leaving from here