I don’t get many things right the first time. In fact, I am told that a lot. Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls brought me here. And where was I before the day that I first saw your lovely face? Now I see it everyday and I know that I am the luckiest
What if I’d been born fifty years before you in a house on a street where you lived? Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike.
Would I know?
And in a white sea of eyes I see one pair that I recognize and I know that I am the luckiest. I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you. Next door there’s an old man who lived to his nineties and one day passed away in his sleep and his wife; she stayed for a couple of days and passed away. I’m sorry, I know that’s a strange way to tell you that I know we belong. That I know that I am the luckiest