But I have this against you, that you have left your first love.
The most intense part was the fluttering of the heart.
The butterfly inside me was restless and anxious,
so much yearning, longing, waiting
for the next encounter of your face.
Suddenly the dawn sun looks brighter,
even cheerful
your scent is somehow carried by a breeze
that reminds me of the cherry blossom spring in 1988
when every pace was purposeful
yet nervous and preoccupied
because the mind had no more space
except to keep your shadow.
No, I have no appetite to eat
I don’t feel hungry anymore
I just want, actually I need,
to write something down on a piece of paper.
