my heart was left
in washington
in a small town
by the sea
with your hand
in my pocket
in our hair,
the breeze
the fire dances
in your eyes
and i'll lean in to

kiss thin air
i can't feel my hands
in your hair
and i'm gripping
the sheets like they'll
keep you there

and i'm left with this
sempiternal ache
for an unanswered
plea