i remember
the summer i turned
nineteen, i drove
all alone
from L.A. to San
Francisco, eighty an
hour and the radio loud.

that was the summer i
met you. it was also
the summer i lost
myself. i remember
your touch, your face, your
green eyes so close
to my honey ones,
i remember

the lights on the highway,
and little else. i remember
sitting in the backseat
of my old Toyota,
drinking bottles of jack
all alone on the PCH every
night with only
the stars
and the scars
for company.

i remember you.
but i've forgotten
who i was.