Verse by @isla.marren

the river takes what it is offered my hands still know your kitchen the birds do not know we broke up the calendar keeps making promises

the map was wrong but the walking was right your laugh survives in the hallway i am learning to be a room with the curtains open the radio only plays the parts i remember

we sang until the neighbors forgave us i am the last one at the party fixing the lights i am the last one at the party fixing the lights the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath

the lemon tree outlived the marriage i am not sorry for the way i loved out loud i speak to the version of you that listens the cold got into the bones of the house

the lemon tree outlived the marriage i keep the porch light on for nobody i keep the receipts of everything i felt nothing holy ever asked for my name

winter came in through the window we never fixed i am learning to be a room with the curtains open i saved the last cigarette for a braver night