Your Cheek, Wrapped in Cold

A quiet afternoon filled with light.
The wind, and the cold touch of your cheek.

You walked ahead of me like a small stray cat,
carefree and distant,
while I tried to keep the same pace.

We were close,
yet something slowly drifted apart.

A field of white clover,
soft spring light,
and a silence that words could not explain.

Leaving only me slowly falling apart,
the moment continues to glow in memory.

A gentle prose-like song by Rina Hayama,
capturing a fragile afternoon that never quite fades.