“花束” by Kyoto’s Emerald Four will be the last song I love this year. The kind of love where I can’t stop thinking about it. And it’s comforting. To say I love you. I love you so much. I hum you in my head almost always. Always. This is a word we use. Forever. I’ve learned all the words to this song. I don’t know what they mean. But I can feel them. When I sing them out loud, I fit my voice to them. To you. We fit each other well. I carry them inside me. You. When I am so fragile they carry me through. I can tell them. I tell you. Don’t forget. We ask each other not to forget. We promise not to forget. I won’t forget. I promise. These are the words we use. There is so much to wait for. So much potential and so much nothingness. Patience is like thick smoke. I want to be patient. Your words help me move through the smoke. You do. What am I speaking about? I know. I’m speaking about a tiny throne. I’m speaking about pressing our hands together. I’m speaking about a seed that I’ve hidden under my tongue. It grows so slowly. I forget it’s there. I remember it’s there. I speak to it, to them, to you. I feel better when I do. It grows down my throat. Out of. They do. You do. I can feel it. New things will happen, but I’ll keep humming you. I’ll keep learning. I’ll remember. Them. Forever you.