Verse 1

You left your blue cup by the kitchen sink

I kept the ring it left, a pale little moon

The rent notice curls where the radiator breathes

Your handwriting still says, “Back by noon”

I take the long way past the corner store

The owner knows I don’t need anything

A paper bag, two pears, the change in my coat

Small things make a sound when the room goes thin

Chorus

I keep one chair turned toward the door

Though I know what the hallway brings

Some nights I count the cracks in the paint

Some nights I don’t count anything

Verse 2

The bus rolls slow through the wet avenue

A kid draws a dragon on fogged-up glass