You have already forgotten me,
yet I cannot forget you.

Suddenly, I think of you—
a pointless sentimentality.
It seeps into my wounds,
leaving me numb to the “now.”

You chased your dream and left the forest.
I wonder—
did you ever find the apple?

I got stubborn,
tried to ignore it,
and by the time I noticed,
it was already too late.

Ah…
A Cinderella
on whom no magic works—
and yet,
I dance…

The reason I never had to fear people
was because people feared me.
And the reason people could keep believing in science
was because science itself
held a powerful kind of magic,
isn’t it?

Magic is an illusion called understanding.
It is “gravity.”
People always want reassurance.
Those who fear the unknown,
calling it frightening,
seem to have grown far too many.

You taught me in a dream—
that in the future,
neither magic nor forests will remain.

“I regret to say something so sorrowful,
but the story has veered far off course.
By something as small
as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings somewhere far away,
by a single, tiny thought or action,
the flow of everything has changed.
And yet…
things will become what they must, won’t they?”

Ah…
A Snow White
who won’t eat the poisoned apple—
am I still asleep?

Ah…
A Cinderella
on whom no magic works—
and yet,
I dance…