What are memories
as well as promises?
How many have I made
while clasping now strangers hands
swearing never to trade
the past for a brick of future?
How many mistakes have I made
just in forgetting your face?
How many times must I've told you
you held a piece of my heart
never knowing you'd keep it
if ever we had to part?
I cannot remember loving you
Nor even one thing about you
I just remember that
I loved you once
--nothing that we did.
What was your name
and what colour your eyes?
What is it about living
that, eventually, memory goes and dies?
I wonder if we're just that
and I to you:
Shadows imitating a face
a figment neither are sure we ever knew