With my hug pillow, going to and fro, staying outside of a mosquito net. Or, with my hug pillow, going to and fro, to be out of the loop at last.
Your sweat runs, Only there to be burned by the sun, in bob cut you are.
On unglazed cups, trying to fill with sake, to make it wet. Or, on her shaved, trying to fill with sake, to make wet there.
A bill collector, to ring three times always, and try again.
An ant runs and runs away, in the black shadow of the convex lens.