I find it strange when I look at photographs
And find one of you and me and where we smile
To think once there were butterflies rushing wild
Now I can't even recognize my own face
I see the resemblance, but she is ugly
I can't recall your lips nor do I wish to
Let alone your touch, your smell, your voice, nor proof...
Of why I should ever have liked you at all.

Now I know his scent, his strength, his kiss, his love
And I hear his words say my name and I smile
We have our own photographs now, a real stack
And I skip to those and I see myself there
And I know I am beautiful; I belong.