She's the kind of girl whose name

you never forget.

Whose name, when spoken to you 20 years since you lost her

Is still as refreshing as the scent of fresh roses.

Whose name

When you hear belongs to another

Never quite fits just the same

Because no one can wear it like she.

The kind of girl

whose name

is as sweet a song

as the voices of an angel choir

But whose sound still feels like a thousand knives

Piercing through the deepest layers of your skin

At the thought of its beauty

Because it belongs to her

whom you lost.

Whose name you can relate to a thousand different faces

Yet the one you always choose is hers.

She's the kind of girl

Whose name may never be spoken again

But remains imprinted on your heart.

The kind of girl whose identity

Is the sole purpose and proprietor

Of your love.