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I wrote:

"so speak to me of love

and speak to me of september

and long lace sleeves

champagne in the park

empty pockets-

pockets empty of everything that wasn't

the sound of you

speaking to me of love

in september."

And you wrote:

"somewhere there's a door - they're just a knock away, to welcome you home"

And I replied, there is no world in which I wouldn't open the door if you knocked.

Just tell me it's when, not if.