yukon gold seeping in through the blinds
projects sunlight lines on the pillow & you sang,
"i wanted to make it...
i got that from waiting here.
tran tran a la la,"
tip top tap, my dear.
we've seen how strong winds blow,
but i've had you all this time."
future flash forward to a time machine
and we'll go back to the city of apples, or those orange groves by the sea.