It's a dream. It seems fake yet real.
The expressionless expression on that person's face when he said "I don't like it", the person he said he was only gentle to, the person he had ridden the Ferris wheel with, the smile that was so warm that it burned his eyes. Heartache. Very true.
The warm and familiar heat on my cheeks in a trance. It's that person's palm. It is the temperature of attachment. Don't want to lose it.
The soil has sunk to a certain extent. There is always a time to rise.
Conception: