Green umbrella and amaranth rains,
we were lost in the warmth...

You
are my...

Oh, my closest friend,
take me back to the heydays of our poetry...

Summer has ended,
and I've never heard your voice...

Sunset, I've known you for so long --
a distant mirage, a forgotten song...

It feels as if I’m walking
on a pathway full of wilted azaleas...

I used to find
your eerie smell on the staircases...

Again, June came -- uninvited,
shadows glimmer as I think about...

He was a curator
who speaks softly about...

Like the moon,
I don’t have enough lucency...

Dusky and shadowy flowers
thrive in the twilight of shuttered lakes...

Your tired eyes still glow.
They remind me of dandelions...