I'm in wonder as I explore
How your mind exists as if it was my own.
But I ask you:
When you happen to reminisce,
What am I (for you), a shadow or a myth?
Am I as little as I can be
Or do I take all the place your mind can give?
As for you, it's not easy answer
You are not a place nor a thought
What you are is a memory, of a love that was not.
