f e r r i s w h e e l
her words,
her laugh,
her smile,
her goodbye
on our last ride
are not the things i would ever forget
because, it was as cold as winter
in the middle of summer
when she looked to the farthest as possible,
to the iris of my eyes,
to the lustrous lips of mine,
to the soul about to be left behind
The Alphabet of You