Pitter patter,
On the sidewalk, raindrops splatter.
Immersed in this sound and lost
In a hazy, dream-like fog,
We talk and leisurely walk
Down the many streets
Of a far-away city
In search of comfort and cover.
“Kiss her, kiss her.”
A forbidden desire
Draws me closer to her
While revealing its sinful nature
On my finger.
Kissing her,
Our lips and hearts become both tender
And as intimate as a whisper.
Pitter patter.
I admire your youthful figure,
As your unwavering attention
Remains fixed on the auditory sensation
Of raindrops kissing the windowpane.
I say, “Listen,”
But I distract you.
Selfishly, I continue,
“It is you I will love forever,
Never mind any weather;
Through thick and thin,
Will you keep me company?
Just on late nights, of course, when
I find myself lonely?”
Pitter patter.
Whether it’s flirty dinner chatter,
Or a crowd of hands congratulating—
You insist it doesn’t matter—
“They’re all the same sounds; some are just louder.”
Yet, when I glance at your glistening eyes,
I realize they contradict your words.
I never understand what your riddles mean.
But, I enjoy watching you think.
Yes, at times I do feel guilty.
Still, I continue pursuing
Whatever distracts me externally…
Anything to conceal the void
I see within me.