My _ With _

My planet with spring tickles my nose

With the revival of growing lives

With the noise of whispering flowers

With the silence of my secret love

My planet with summer whooshes through my sleeves

With the gentleness of hot air

With the party of loquacious cicadas

With the passion of my love letter

My planet with the sky stands high in the fall

With the aroma of jubilant harvest

With the meeting of red rain from the hillside

With the distress of my expectation losing contact

My planet with the passed winter freezes eternity

With the sweet memory of abandoned valentine’s card

With the residual temperature of his palm

With the outdated list of favorite songs once listen together

My planet with the completed season

With the crowd seeking for love

With some are looking for something else

With some are looking for themselves

With some are looking,

but they hardly explain what they are looking for.