You were crying last time I saw you, naked and shaking. The day I found out, and the agony of coming down, with your pale arms primed for suicide. A spoon lies tarnished on the counter, darker medicine hidden in the freezer. Your body holds a much smaller figure than that summer years ago when we sang together, than that fall we kissed for the first time. In the shadow of these dreams of a time before we fell apart, of a time before heroin, I don't know your name, but I still love you.