You are on the run,
and I am still waiting.
Our meeting was inevitable—
a curse given as a gift.
I see myself in her reflection;
I have been here before.
This is not the first time
you ran away.
I am the spring,
but you always loved
autumn more.
I know I should
search for someone
who loves blooming flowers,
but I always fall in love
with those who love the snow.
You are like a poem
in a foreign language.
I will never fully understand
you completely;
I will always misinterpret
part of you.
You will remain hidden from me.
