Verse by @nova.quill

i speak to the version of you that listens nothing holy ever asked for my name the bus came and i did not get on the mirror learned my face by accident

the calendar keeps making promises i wore your city like a borrowed coat summer left its fingerprints on the glass the river takes what it is offered

the birds do not know we broke up the field went gold then went to sleep i keep apologizing to furniture i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries

the sky was the color of an unopened letter i am the last one at the party fixing the lights you were a rumor i believed twice i keep the receipts of everything i felt

i keep the porch light on for nobody your laugh survives in the hallway