What remains

The soft perfume of her skin in the air,
a terrible headache for the too many glasses of wine we had,
words unsaid, things undone, dreams never true.
Nothing else.

Keep on falling

That's the story of a man falling off a building. The man, as he passes each floor, thinks to himself: "So far so good!" "So far so good!" "So far so good!".

The problem is not the falling. Rather the landing.