Heavy Kind Of Beauty
Banda Spolke
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
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