I have a letter, familiar papernI keep a figurine in a locketnIt's dedicated, engraved initialsnYellow photograph in a pocketbooknnWell the rim of her mouth was goldennHer eyes were just desert sandsnBut that's not hernThat's just the lightnIt's only an image of hernIt's just a trick of the lightnnShe sent me letters, gave me directionsnName of the street where I should turnnAnd then she stood out front, wrapped in her bathtowelnYelling, Once you leave boy, you can't return!nnI was beating on her like an anvilnBeating her out of original shapenWith that same old panic caught on her facenI copied the image of the ancient embracennYou remind me very muchnOf someone that I used to knownWe used to take turns crying all nightnOh, but that was so long ago now