Do you remember the times we used to run through the fields and kiss? Well, I forgot the morning you left me.
That day, with the sun blazing down, I held you by the arm as we walked to the station. As we said goodbye, you told me:
‘Look at the corn, for when it sprouts and truly blossoms, I will return.’
I still wait for you to return, always at dusk, in the cornfield.