As I was writing this letter, I can't help but to look at you. Your bright yellow dress, and your iron-straightened hair. I wonder how those little movements, those gracefully sweet and delicate movement of yours, makes my heart coarsely beat. I wonder how those small and brown eyes of yours makes my eyes illuminate. As if those were the brightest star in the sky at night, making my life glow and sparkle. I wonder if those hands of yours were made of purity and pride. The smoothness I can't explain, like the softest thing on Earth and the safest thing to hold. I wonder how those lips, those two red lips of yours, speaks the kindest words and the most fluent phrase anyone could hear.
I also wonder, when will I hold you with those yellow dress? When will you get closer to me with your delicate moves? When will you look at me with those dazzling eyes? When will you touch me once again? When will I hear those words of yours and and my favorite phrase you always say to me? When will it happen again?
As tears fell down from my eyes, I slowly took my phone. Pressed the replay button and kept wondering. When will I be able to be with you again?