Counting down, slowly. I miss the warmth of you more than I expected to.
Lines let go, the shore pulls back, and the whole city shrinks behind me.
Open water ahead, but my thoughts keep turning toward you.
Right now the horizon feels wide, and your warmth feels very far away.
I watch the land disappear and think of how close we'll be again.
No port is as good as the one I'm sailing back to: you.