I couldn't notice the delicacy created by your trauma.
I thought I liked you and cared about you, but I laughed.
I don't say forgive, I don't say let me apologize.
But if I could be selfish as a self-talk, I longed for you.
I liked the clothes you chose and the stories you liked.
I liked it with my body in a shallow child's way.
You are a wonderful person who is loved by someone full of your body.
I can understand your delicacy now. I'm sure you'll be loved by the world.
Thank you for waving gently.