Slowly

Slow, slow the memories go.
Your voice remains as a distant sun, in winter its warmth diminished. Your face always smiling eroded at the edges, although I can feel your hair in my hand still drenched in sweet(or was it sweat?) in your bed.
Your touch, I don’t remember except our first kiss and our last hug.
I still long for you, but I’m not sure for what exactly since today I barely remember you.
Today I can’t remember you, every other day I can’t forget you.

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