Not all rivers
end up in the ocean–
doesn't make their journey
less worthy.

Not all love
ends up in a lover's arms–
doesn't make it any less
worthy.

the hatred
like a matrix
pulls you deeper
trying to climb but it's steeper
no love
you feel below not above
losing all hope
falling into desperation
it feels like suffocation
the hatred of a nation

My Dancing Girl-

Perhaps the Spring
In our Leap

Has stretched but
My Spirit Soars

With your head
Rested

Upon my shoulder

Watercolour,
Two tears of rain-

Coppered silk dissolves,
Hanging over time.

If Fuji remains
Tell me when

She is a bubbling crater
Steaming lake, fisher,
Cormorant
And all