I'm drowning in love. I want to drown and disappear. I want to turn into air and mix with you. I streamline myself and walk like I'm swimming. I've picked up the habit of taking pointless detours. Like an alarm bell, my cheeks flush so much that I'm worried; the situation changes down to the density of my body. Gathering all the images in its body and diving into a different dimension, the butterfly writes in agony in another world. At this point, I wouldn't mind losing everything and being alone with you. Instead, I wish. I want to gaze at you. I want to touch you. I want to gaze, want to touch, want to dream, want to make a miracle. I want to change, want to shake things up, want to quietly take you out somewhere. I want to take your tantalizing hand and, depending on the mood, try making a move. I want to change, want to start running, want to mix with you.