On the 33rd day, when you gave me another love letter, we went to the lake in this forest, but there were no blue goats in the water.
I smell the smell of fire, the smell of bones, the smell of laughing. I heard the sounds of splitting, I heard the sound of screaming, the sound of running, and your sigh.
You want the last apple in this forest, but I snatch the weapon, I am laughing, the bow and arrow accost you. You are crying, I am crying, you are begging, I am running.
The goats in the lake came back, and this time, they have duck eyes.
If I never saw you again, tomorrow, I will dance alone and smile with sorrow.
Your witch came back this spring.
I'm naked, and so are you.