"The Fragrance of the Last Row"

His seat is the last arc of the classroom

Light passes through the glass and melts into gold foil at the tips of the hair

I folded a paper butterfly and wrote "I like you" on it.

But when on duty, I found it sleeping soundly

In her textbook - the footer is pressed down

A line of small characters: "Forever like"

Nowadays, every time I unscrew that bottle of "unrequited love"

Lemons and citrus fruits crumbled into fine mist

It's just like when she was flipping through books back then

The soft sound of the fingertips rubbing against the paper

Those memories that were crumpled and flattened

The folds still carry the warmth of chalk dust

It turns out that the dullest knife is a secret love

I can't even afford the right to be jealous

There was a whole fine sky in her eyes

And I even want to hide my shadow

The gap between the desk and the back of the chair

When the wind lifted the window screen, I suddenly understood

Youth is a bottle of unfinished fragrance

The top note is the light from the tips of her hair

The middle note is the sound of broken wings on a piece of paper

The backtone is all that has not been said

In the passage of time, slowly

Brewed with lemon flavor

-- Love unrequited