Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power.

Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions,

all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.
Paul Engle
 

However, it turns out that Yoona was also insatiable for his love notes, demanding to receive his professes of love regularly.

And so Jiyong and I have been meeting secretly like conspirators in a spy movie. We’d meet after school in my house or his, at the library or in the park, working out love notes to give Yoona.

It sends me a cheap thrill to be able to hang out with him especially in secret. It almost seemed like we were friends, but I remind myself that he was just doing consultations about Yoona, making sure that the spark never runs out between them. Although sometimes, we’d do more and end up doing our homework together and eating at each other’s houses.

So here I am, trying to spew out love notes to help Jiyong keep Yoona.  They didn’t have to be the best but whatever, Yoona eats them up like candy.

The wind whispers your name

My heart gladly listens

If there is no sun, there is the moon

If there is no moon, there are the stars

If there are no stars, there is you

To light up my life

Every snowflake is unique

Just like you are beautifully different

Last night, the cicadas played a lovely beat

Much like how my heart beats your name

Just like no one has seen the edge of the universe

My love for you is endless

The sun would not set today

As I refuse to let this day with you end

I don’t know how long I could keep this up. I haven’t been able to help anyone else but Ji, all because of the insatiable and lovely Yoona.

Because for as long as he keeps her happy with his romantic words, Yoona is his.