The dusk settles on the windowsill where you lean A thin trail of light follows the path we used to walk I keep the heavy coat hanging by the kitchen door Just to feel the shape of a winter that stayed too long The kettle sings a low and lonely tune for one While the shadows stretch across the pine floorboards I find your handwriting in the margin of a worn book Small marks of a life that move too fast for me to hold I am reaching through the thick air of this empty room Searching for the anchor of your name in the grey tide Every steady heartbeat feels like a question I cannot ask As the truth of your absence breaks against my ribs It is a heavy kind of beauty to have known you at all And I will carry this ache until the stones turn to sand The clock on the mantelpiece has forgotten how to count Leaving me stranded in a moment that refuses to fade I am not looking for a way to mend what is shattered Only trying to learn a language of a permanent silence There is a grace in the way the memory burns low and red Feeding on the parts of me that I gave away to you [Verse] I walk the perimeter of the garden we planted in June The soil is cool and indifferent to the change of hands I remember the way the sun caught the edge of your smile A brief flash of gold before the clouds moved back in I do not speak your name to the walls anymore I save it for the hours when the stars are the only witness Living in the space between a heartbeat and a sigh I am reaching through the thick air of this empty room Searching for the anchor of your name in the grey tide Every steady heartbeat feels like a question I cannot ask As the truth of your absence breaks against my ribs It is a heavy kind of beauty to have known you at all And I will carry this ache until the stones turn to sand I am reaching through the thick air of this empty room Searching for the anchor of your name in the grey tide Every steady heartbeat feels like a question I cannot ask As the truth of your absence breaks against my ribs It is a heavy kind of beauty to have known you at all And I will carry this ache until the stones turn to sand