Will I see you in San Francisco
When the summer solstice nears
And we are both so far away from
The yellow highlights
And soft blue resemblance
Coming in my high glass window
That fastened a sharp specular
Onto your dark brown eyes
While we talked all night long?

In the daytime on a Tuesday
It wasn't me who touched
Your face with sunlight.

But wasn't it me who was like wind
That flowed through this world
Until the moment when the past days
Had left me in a state where
I had not the strength
To toss back your long hair
When you moved among the tall trees
Near the wood and steel bench
Where I sat alone thinking?

There is always something
Inside you and in your eyes,
That I cannot begin to toss.