Do you still remember

the summer you spent here

in this little washed out town?

Do you still remember

all the adventures

we took hand in hand

across the land?

We ran along the railroad tracks

in the pouring rain of June

trying to find a better place.

I still have scars where

your fingertips burned my skin

with your gentle touch.

And my lips still bleed

from the time you

kissed me under

my maple tree.

But darling where are you now?

You said you'd never forget.

But as you hold her waist

and trace her spine with your fingertips

I am here leaning on the backside of my maple tree

where you carved our names,

and i'm tracing the spots you touched my arms

with my razor blade.

Darling can you tell me

how to get carvings out of a tree

because it's the last piece I have of you

and I can't bear the thought

of your name on anything of mine.