Daylights were so much
than expensive goldbars 
with your arms securing my chest
in the twenty-fifth of May 
covered with comfy bedsheets
and you as my everyday scenery, 
my healthy breakfast,
my vitamin A.

But nightfalls were so much
unaware than missed shooting stars
in clouded firmament 
with your eyes refused to stay 
growing cherry blossoms
as I hope that your feet 
became regretful
for stepping to the nothingness
to the process of forgeting
until to the complete unknown

— marion.