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

Your coffee mug sits heavy in my hands

Holds your blue mug like a prayer

Over Sunday dinner, Tuesday chemo

I traced it with my finger 'til it felt like a wedding ring

I came back wrong but you came running anyway

Turning circles on a different wedding band

Dented but still holding heat

But you're standing in my empty house

The rain tastes like rust

Your pen running out of ink

My shoulders dropped without me knowing

Just Saturday morning claiming its space

Mouth opening, closing, choosing quiet

It's the morning I forget I'm lying

From this barn made of rain

Pick up dry cleaning, when the sun hits three

Stand for something or fall for anything

But the moving truck comes when the kitchen still smells like butter

I'm still pressing my mouth to the dark

And just hold their hands in the quiet