He can't remember after waiting for so long...
She didn't only went, but she took with her the abillity to remember her, like a knive left behind inside of the primal wound, not to remember her but to remember with pain, her absence...

Fading away the memory of her face
he couldn’t now that smile to recall
like the lines on those browning letters
where she telling about her feeling wrote
wrinkled paper with the musty odor of age,
with pale ink taking the color of dry blood,
like the one hardening in his heart
because of the absence of all her love;

their Summer of tenderness now cooling
by the arrival of that feared so much, Fall,
with the dry and yellow leaves dropping
like insincere tears coming from a troll
that used magic to attract the naive lover
punishing his innocence with rejection,
it is not what was in that last written letter
but what really was said behind the words;

looking down, despair is too blind to see
if the abyss have a bottom, jump and fall,
let the man unhindered fly to his dead,
he will feel like and angel, that’s because,
freedom from pain and Winter’s solitude
which would put on his head white snow
without fingers to get tenderly entangled
as he with her company could get very old;

he close his eyes trying to remember, can’t,
even that little of all her smiles can recall,
her delicate hands holding jasmines, or when
she called his name, the timbre of her voice;
because she never said goodbye you see…
one day she was there, the next she was gone,
and he waited, and waited all those years,
and now, only the abyss is left, and being old.