I go back to that place
Through the green door
Enter the red brick house
Mikhu is still the little fairy
My eyes look for
And still my shyness
Forces me to look away
In her mother's presence
In the faraway attic
She furtively cooks me a meal
We make love
That brush our skin faintly
When I come out
She stands at the green door
Then upon the here
She is no more
55 my first address from memory, wonder if sowed the first seed of romance.