Search 9,531 forged lines by craft, not popularity.

Your lipstick tells stories your mouth won't say

Seventeen asked for permission / Thirty-three kicks down the door

City lights like scattered accusations

What if I forget the salt of your tears in the masa?

The third time round, the truck just made the turn

You were just sitting here / Watching me come home

Made me set down everything I'd held for keeping quiet

Her crossword book still open on the bed

Cold phone face-down in the same blue cup

But empty hands can still hold grace

I'm standing here and holding nothing

In this basement where the folding chairs won't forget

Standing in your kitchen doorway, learning devotion

Every truth she pressed into my palm like bus fare

Your hand weighs nothing and everything at once

Left your sleeping house with shoes by the bed

Your mug holds the shape of absence

I see my jaw in how you held your pen

But kept the time clock running

My voice left me standing here