Verse by @dustline.rio

we were young and the light was cheap i wrote your number on my palm and washed my hands the dog still waits by the door at six there is a version of us that stayed

the cold got into the bones of the house the birds do not know we broke up the calendar keeps making promises the kettle screams and i let it

the dog still waits by the door at six the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath the sea does not remember any of our names i wore your city like a borrowed coat

i am learning to be a room with the curtains open the tape hissed where your voice should be your laugh survives in the hallway there is a version of us that stayed

the field went gold then went to sleep we were young and the light was cheap i keep the porch light on for nobody we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast

there is honey in the bottom of the bad years we sang until the neighbors forgave us my hands still know your kitchen