Verse by @dustline.rio

nothing holy ever asked for my name summer left its fingerprints on the glass my mother taught me how to fold a grudge you can hear the whole town breathing at four am

the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays the kettle screams and i let it i speak to the version of you that listens you were a rumor i believed twice

i keep the receipts of everything i felt you never asked and i never stopped answering winter came in through the window we never fixed the sky was the color of an unopened letter

i left the door unlocked for a season the map was wrong but the walking was right i wore your city like a borrowed coat the sea does not remember any of our names

i left the door unlocked for a season the mirror learned my face by accident the bus came and i did not get on we were young and the light was cheap