How distinctly will you remember me when I am gone?
Will you remember the color of my hair
or the sound of my voice?
Will you recall the sweet things I said to you
when I was young and the world was new?
Will you remember a stolen kiss on a hot day
in a world too cold for people as good as I was?
Will you remember beauty that was never there?
Will you recall a wild mane blowing in my face
on a beach shared for a few months of a bleak life
when life was not bleak and my head nearly shaved?