Sky blue, blue sky
Even when the spine to spine feels there is inseparable
between the fog in the mountains and the dew on the foliage
We split up looking for direction, and in the rice fields I saw hands waving
"Come here, honey," so you say
Above the mountains Helicopters hovering with banners waving
"Didn't you wanna see the city?" written on it

That man slammed the shadow of the sun glare
There is a desired but never found
There are left and should be interpreted as its own
The purest

December 19, 2014