There is no bloody love and hatred,
No piling up of flowery words,
Some are just
Plain but warm, ordinary but warm,
Like a stream, the tenderness of the water flows long and tender.
Ordinary little love,
Simple little happiness.
Warm and quiet afternoon,
A brief and insipid encounter,
The heartbeat of that moment,
Like the tiny ripples caused by a stone thrown into a lake,
As long as these are enough.
Conception:
