I'm trying to forget, but she's very memorable. There's a clarity of touch, a certain fidelity of memory that remains. Brilliant flashes of memory like fireworks, vivid and incomparable in my mind, as the soft dawn approaches; the stark contrast of that rosette of light against the night sky fooling my heart's eye into thinking it's brighter than
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"Sometimes at night, I see their faces,
I feel the traces they left on my soul.
And those are the memories that made me a wealthy soul."
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