Until the last cicada chirping ends
I suddenly realized that autumn has arrived
I'm holding a pen in my hand
Listening to boring math class
A hand touched my hand
A move under the desk became our little secret
But not long after, that hand left me
I thought I would never be able to hold it again
But, I seem to have thought wrongly
It seems like I thought it right
Just because it's a secret between him and me
Intention: I don't want to write.