I see him doing the same everyday.
He buys flowers, wears the same tuxedo.
Stops before crossing the street,
Sees the building in front of him
And returns to his place.
It’s the same.
No matter if it rains, snows,
If it’s windy or sunny.
Doesn’t he care about the poor flowers?
Or the tuxedo he washes and is always soaking wet?
No, he doesn’t care.
This has to stop.
Today I wear casual clothes.
At least I don’t look chaotic.
I see him coming out.
And he stops.
A smile crosses his face.
“Why are you smiling?”,
“Didn’t you know? You’re exotic”.
He was waiting for me.
He didn’t feel strong enough
To cross the street
And ask me out.
Photo taken from dorama Playful Kiss