Porchlight Letters

There is clay on your hands,

secrets in the dark

(dryer sheets and summer sparks)

Hoodie smells like smoke and the light on the porch Trading secrets

for fire by the laundry room door Where the dryer sheets spin

and the world fades away Spinning pottery wheels shaping cold,

heavy clay

Wet clay on our fingers,

spinning out of control (hummmm)

There is clay on your hands,

secrets in the dark (dryer sheets and summer sparks)

We shape it and mold it,

but it always slips away

(so cold)

Dryer sheets and smoke

Secrets left untold