What is left of our nightly conversations?
Does your body still echo my touch?
Do you keep a lock of my hair,
or is it just this pain that hurts too much?

Maybe my name still hums in your melodies.
Maybe not all songs are sad.
Perhaps they soothe the hearts of strangers,
who never knew the love we had.

Do you think we will be remembered?
Though there’s a strange hand on my chest,
and a lock of my hair lies hidden in your drawer,
let's not forget that we were once the best.