Verse by @fenn.arlo

i am learning to be a room with the curtains open there is honey in the bottom of the bad years i keep apologizing to furniture the streetlamp buzzed like a held breath

we made a home out of almost the wallpaper remembers the wrong colors the moon is a coin i cannot spend the river takes what it is offered

we sang until the neighbors forgave us the birds do not know we broke up we made a home out of almost we drank the cheap thing and called it a feast

there is honey in the bottom of the bad years the calendar keeps making promises your laugh survives in the hallway the bus came and i did not get on

i am learning the names of ordinary things again winter came in through the window we never fixed the church bell is just a bell on tuesdays the moon is a coin i cannot spend

you can hear the whole town breathing at four am