Verse by @moth.lamp

the river takes what it is offered the kettle screams and i let it i put the whole year in one suitcase the field went gold then went to sleep

you can hear the whole town breathing at four am the map was wrong but the walking was right i wore your city like a borrowed coat my mother taught me how to fold a grudge

the dog still waits by the door at six my hands still know your kitchen the radio only plays the parts i remember the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath

we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast the highway hums the way you used to the cold got into the bones of the house the radio only plays the parts i remember

the kettle screams and i let it the moon is a coin i cannot spend i wore your city like a borrowed coat you were a rumor i believed twice

the tape hissed where your voice should be