Verse by @kessler.groove

i love you in the tense that has no word the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath i am the last one at the party fixing the lights my hands still know your kitchen

the birds do not know we broke up i keep the porch light on for nobody i still set the table for the ghost of us the sky was the color of an unopened letter

the lemon tree outlived the marriage we are all somebody else's weather the field went gold then went to sleep the map was wrong but the walking was right

i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet the mirror learned my face by accident my mother taught me how to fold a grudge the cold got into the bones of the house

my hands still know your kitchen we are all somebody else's weather we were young and the light was cheap the field went gold then went to sleep

we sang until the neighbors forgave us the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays the dog still waits by the door at six we made a home out of almost