Each day with her, he overflowed with compliments
Eight months later, he can't recall the color of her eyes, the way she smelled, the sound of her voice
And if I thought of one I knew and if the details became clear, I would not be able to leave the house for some time
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Very nice poem indeed. Yeah, memory of the people is short lived. 'This version exists somewhere, here it exists only for an instant Not held on to, it drifts away like a child's balloon '... is so very nice.