Please do not write me
And remind me how we were in love.
We were never in love.
We were merely kids
Who knew not the first thing about love.
We were simply victims
Of the seduction of other's words
Who loved to tell us
How beautiful we were,
And to two young, naive, foolish artists
(Who knew nothing of the world)
Nothing was more important than beauty
Whether it be true
Or whether it be false.