Shall we meet at the edge of forever
when the time machine descends
so lightly in the ancient dust…

My dear, it all depends.

May we walk on the hem of the ocean
where forgotten relics fade
in sand and salt dissolving…?

Such notions must be weighed.

Will you touch my hand in tomorrow
and remind me how to smile
in the endless dance of maybe…?

Let's think on that a while.

Should I wait for you in the gloaming,
as the skies are dimmed and torn,
and meet you in forever…?

Decide when you are born. You are, as yet, unborn.

I know I might be nothing,
but Time's anomaly;
if we meet again in your time machine…

Perhaps you'll know it's me.

And should I prove to be dreaming
by temporal mischance,
may I come to you when you're dreaming too…?

Of course. And we shall dance.