A Poverty of Nostalgia

I still look you up
In the phonebook
Just to know it wasn't a dream
I kissed you in three cities
And always knew the spot
A touch on the chin made you smile
Your shoulder blades tense then relax
You don't have to apologize
It's way too late for that
There used to be a decent person in you
Together we drowned her out
If I could erase your surname from my memory
I'd have one bone too many
I'd have too many alibis inside me
But wouldn't require them at all