I wanted to meet him, I wanted to talk with him, I wanted to change my lonely days. Just like a shoplifting boy, he had a little guilt and threw the postal mail to his neighbor's post. Gentle he delivered the mail. I took the taste again to the next door. The second, third, and dull he would be doubtful. Still, one day when I wanted to meet him and continued to post, I was deprived of my lips.