I've wasted so many pages writing about our feelings
but for some reason I can't find the words to fill this one blank line.
Placing a pressed flower as a bookmark, I walked an abandoned bicycle with you.
We made a pile of the bricks that were almost forgotten, just to knock them over.
We're being tragged along towards equality. Tired of playing,
we'll most likely not remember the frighteningly blue sky.
Like that, a bundle of sunlight is pushing its way towards me now.
Even though the two of us were still right there, I prayed, "Please, let us meet again."
I must be out of my mind.
The hand that turns a page of a book, the misanga bracelet tied with your mouth.
Hey, today is an ordinary day as well, and if it rains, we can just talk on the phone.
Like that, I'm pushing (The misanga bracelet snapped, unnoticed.)
my kindness towards you. (But for some reason I still can't say it.)
I must really be out of my mind.
If you pick one, it will break loudly.
"That's love for you," I joked, and you laughed.
I'm glad I made it in time. The city decided to pretend it didn't notice and went to sleep.
Let's go to the place where we made a pile of the bricks that were almost forgotten.
As I run up the hill that looks out over the sea, the sky is frighteningly blue.
I'm holding a soda pop in my right hand—the left one is always looking for you.
Like that, I'm hugging the spring breeze with both hands occupied.
Time is still on our side, so I don't want you to say,
"Someday, we'll forget about today."
Like that, "the present" is heading towards me without even pressing the question.
I guess the two of us are still right there. "That's right! The words that would fill the blank line are..."
No, let's not say them yet.
The hand that turns a page of a book, the misanga bracelet untied with your mouth.
Little joys on the first train of the day. Hey, today is an ordinary day as well.
I must really be out of my mind.