Verse by @wilder.june

the kettle screams and i let it i am learning to be a room with the curtains open there is honey in the bottom of the bad years the field went gold then went to sleep

you were a rumor i believed twice i buried the argument in the yard the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays we sang until the neighbors forgave us

the bus came and i did not get on there is honey in the bottom of the bad years we were young and the light was cheap the lemon tree outlived the marriage

there is honey in the bottom of the bad years i keep apologizing to furniture winter came in through the window we never fixed my mother taught me how to fold a grudge

we sang until the neighbors forgave us the sky was the color of an unopened letter the radio only plays the parts i remember i put the whole year in one suitcase

i put my grief in a drawer with the batteries