I took a photograph in my mind’s eye,
I could not help but wonder if you saw.
Those tokens they gave us that first night,
the ones we got because they got my drink wrong,
I keep mine in a box beneath my bed.
It’s filled with things like keychains, cards, and notes.
Which sounds dull, but I’ll have them til I’m dead,
because that night I knew a door had closed.
My new life, filled with intimate comfort
starkly different from the days before you.
And there were times I thought we might fall short
but we built a base, weathered the typhoon.
Tonight, I saw your token in your car.
A story started in our little hometown bar.
