Verse by @port.calloway

the floorboards keep the score i speak to the version of you that listens you left your jacket on the chair like a promise the calendar keeps making promises

the tape hissed where your voice should be we were young and the light was cheap nothing holy ever asked for my name the tape hissed where your voice should be

the lemon tree outlived the marriage you were a rumor i believed twice nothing holy ever asked for my name there is honey in the bottom of the bad years

i love you in the tense that has no word the bus came and i did not get on the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath every train sounds like leaving from here

the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors the river takes what it is offered the calendar keeps making promises i put the whole year in one suitcase

i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries