Han Bok « The Shade of Writing

They call me Kim Soo Ah
Friends call me Kimmy
She smiled bright with cherub glow
I handed her fallen books
Blushed with nerves I stole away
From her radiance
I lamented my parting so
Describing her emery hair
To shop keep as being a violent sea
Of dark obsidian streaked
With natural ebony browns
Her curls pinned behind doll like ears
Eyes of honey brown cinnamon
I cursed my anxious shy nature
Shop Keep laughed and says to me
Not all men are winners see
Yet she after me pursued
To my utmost astonishment
And traded numbers
She texted later to my good fortune
To ask to dine that night with me
So out we go but before
I show up at Soo Ah’s door
Dressed in lovely white sun gown
She bids me in to wait
She tend her make up, I sit down
On tapes I see a name
“Sorah’s Don’t Touch”
So Rah? Soo Ah? Or is this Sora?
I call to her and ask
Who is Sorah?
Those tapes are a friend’s.
She pops one in and I watch
The girl dressed in vibrant Han Bok
sings a most lovely melody
The friend filming claps at end
“Fantastic Sora, beautiful as always.”
She cheers, I shut it off and sigh
So realistic, I mutter, every detail
The apartment, the campus, the store
But Sora, I am dreaming, and it’s you again
Can I not escape the lady of mist?
Will these visions never end?
She sees my sad smile
Oh, then it’s you, Damien?
That, Damien, where are you
Kentucky fair one, asleep
And where, Anika, are you?
Looking for you in every dream