When we're 92
I'll tell the tales of your eyes
Not the ones about me getting lost in them, but also of the fear they raised in me
Of someday when I don't find myself in them.
I hope that when we're 26, I'll still be able to kiss your lids
And find your starry eyes of love sparkling brighter than moonlight.
I hope that when we're 45, I'm still by your side
And I'm able to wipe your tears so you won't need to hold them back.
I hope that when we're 58, I'm still the one written in your fate
A bestfriend that listens to the stories you narrate
My wish when we're 92, would just be to wake up next to you
To see in your eyes, me, just like I saw when we were 23.
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