Shortly after settling into the Chelsea Hotel, Patti reflects on Robert’s future beyond their life together. “I knew one day I would stop and he would keep on going, but until then, nothing could tear us apart,” she writes.

In an archive interview clip in Crossfire Hurricane, a recent documentary about the Rolling Stones, guitarist and founding member Brian Jones casts a prediction about his future beyond the band: “My ultimate aim in life was never to be a pop star. I enjoy it with reservations, but I’m not really satisfied artistically or personally. Let’s face it; the future as a Rolling Stone is very uncertain.”

Ultimately, both predictions ring true – but with different paths for similar souls.

As much as Patti respects musicians such as Bob Dylan and Jimi Hendrix, some of her most profound emotional moments and artistic inspirations link directly to the Stones—and Jones especially. A particularly prescient example is the effect Jones’ death—from drowning, at the age of 27—has on Patti, inspiring her to begin a cycle of poems dedicated to the musician, “for the first time expressing my love for rock and roll within my own work.”

Jones appears throughout “Just Kids”—in Loulou’s bracelet, as an obsessive character trait in one of Patti’s theater roles, as the hashish-infused soundtrack to Patti’s early forays into music performance, and as an echo in the death of Jim Morrison.

Patti’s depiction of Robert reflects some of the same things she loves about Jones; aside from fair physical characteristics and an obsession with their hair, both men share an adventurous sense of fashion, a willingness to experiment within their art, and a tendency toward a tragic darkness that scares and alienates Patti. Robert describes the Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” as “my song” and Patti frets over Robert’s “fear that he had aligned himself irrevocably with darker forces, his Faustian pact”—if not sympathy for the devil, empathy at least.

Meanwhile, Patti’s own artistic development is guided by another Rolling Stone—Keith Richards. Her decision to cut her hair in the style of the Stones guitarist transforms her physically and artistically. “My Keith Richards haircut was a real discourse magnet,” she drily remarks. She is welcomed by the Warhol crowd Robert embraced, is offered and accepts theater roles, and finds the path to a career in music.

In the end, Patti is left to celebrate Robert’s life as flocks of seagulls gather above her at his memorial service; an echo of Richards taking the stage at London’s Hyde Park two days after Jones’ death as hundreds of doves are released in Brian’s memory. In the end, it is Patti Smith and Keith Richards who have written best-selling memoirs. Their memories help ensure Robert’s photos and Brian’s haunting slide guitar live on.