A cento

As we chased each other
where are the footprints
that lead to the place
we’re standing?
running in mind –
our childhood
thousand nameless

Among the leaves right there
the nature of our love
itself flowering of such
tender emotions
best friends

But within the years
the horizon is no longer
a vast gradation of florid
while sorrow wounded itself
around the tree trunk
you left

I don’t cry
that was a little while ago
the ribbons in our hands
turned white
it’s a different beauty
I don’t like to think
about the past




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