Verse by @poppy.mires

there is honey in the bottom of the bad years i speak to the version of you that listens we are all somebody else's weather i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands

we are all somebody else's weather i am learning the names of ordinary things again the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands

the lemon tree outlived the marriage there is honey in the bottom of the bad years i love you in the tense that has no word the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath

you were a rumor i believed twice i saved the last cigarette for a braver night there is honey in the bottom of the bad years the sky was the color of an unopened letter

the map was wrong but the walking was right i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors the field went gold then went to sleep

we sang until the neighbors forgave us i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries i am learning the names of ordinary things again i keep the porch light on for nobody