Do I?

Neon lights outline your collarbone on strange nights,
Marking the map of the city I love the most.
Do you still walk along the shoreline,
With the sand and shells jingling in your pockets,
And the wind in your hair?
Was it the dusk or dawn that we watched together,
I cannot remember well...
Is it all far gone?
Do I still play in the strings of your violin
Or in the sonnets you say you love?
Stole kisses like we stole pickels,
Laid out in jars in winter afternoon sun.
Fantasies paved the road,
But for our bare feet it was a long way.
Grey and old, turned to dust
We'll meet another day,
Maybe some constellations away.
Till then, tell me,
Do I reside in your poetry,

As you do in mine every single day?