I dream.

About you and me playing by the sea.

I dream.

About the nights we’ll spend smoking pipes by the rocks.

I dream.

Of making cookies and drinking tea.

Oh how I long to be, like

All those books on the shelf that you know so well.

And the respect is mutual.

Winding staircases to unknown places.

The old bell, hear it ring, ring, ring.

But not until November.

Timing is everything.

I dream.