Butterfly
She's like a butterfly -
beautiful, fragile, and easy
to get away,
as she did three summers ago.
Lo and behold!
I sighted her in Tokyo last year,
and she denied she was the one.
Her bag-picking-disappearing eyes were really
betraying her conviction,
despite her hair dyed red, and
cut short.
Once again we fell in love,
deeper than three summers ago. Like a butterfly
I analyzed her beauty, felt her soft body,
and held her tenderly.
On the following day,
I touched the traces of her,
in form her perfume,
and a letter she wrote,
telling me "Goodye".
Like a butterfly,
she had taken flight;
away from my grasp....
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