She stared long at the distance,
The way he went,
Yeontan lagging behind,
In her hand grasped tightly,
A fresh, red rose,
Gifted to her by him.
The only korean word she knew,
The word he uttered while kneeling down,
Offering the rose to her.
The permed fringes that veiled his forehead,
Assymetrical, yet entrancing twilight browns
he had for eyes,
His infectious boxy smile that made her day,
All seemed so bizarre,
Too good to be true,
The only thought that occupied her mind
Was to hug him tight,
Her cute oppa,
Her own bias.
He had left only after asking her out on a date,
Unlike the casual dinner date she always resented.
She was satisfied that he was weird like her,
Uncanny like her,
To assure her that she was not alone in
Wearing oversized clothes
Or having a disdain for spicy food.
He had left only after ruffling her hair,
Towering over her short stature,
A wide smile itched on his face
When she had screamed a yes.
She was happy to have him,
And wished passionately that she could have him forever,
The word she never understood
for she was not a korean,
Yet understood its concept
The moment he proposed to her.
All days of dreaming him,
Bearing a wonderful fruit...