Verse by @marlow.quinn

the calendar keeps making promises there is a version of us that stayed i am learning to be a room with the curtains open the moon is a coin i cannot spend

there is honey in the bottom of the bad years the moon is a coin i cannot spend i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands i buried the argument in the yard

i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet i keep the porch light on for nobody i left the door unlocked for a season the sea does not remember any of our names

i traded my quiet for a louder kind of quiet the moon is a coin i cannot spend the sky was the color of an unopened letter winter came in through the window we never fixed

the map was wrong but the walking was right somewhere a phone rings and nobody is worried there is a version of us that stayed my mother taught me how to fold a grudge

summer left its fingerprints on the glass the field went gold then went to sleep the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors