Written by: Yi-Wen Lin
Lips are sealed in suffering quiet.
Wanting, needing that long overdue kiss.
Having an internal erupting riot,
lead me into the never-ending abyss.
Needing, wanting to escape through the trees.
Leaving at sunset in late summer’s June,
with the flourishing of the smooth green peas.
Yet beneath having wrinkles of a prune.
It was for all of one month,
in the heat of the blazing summer,
the frantic kisses and hidden glances,
I think you called it a summer fling,
it was a whirlwind romance.