Four Views of Temples


The perfect match
can ravage this temple
glistening in the middle
of winter. You are
the secret I
desire to keep.


Love is not
falling. Look at fog.
Escaping the sharpest
leaves. Lovers wake
up on a pilgrimage
catching soft cotton
unclothing mornings.


Mind beautiful pain
only when noticed.
Imagine cruelty
as thousand summers
fading the surface
of the temple
tirelessly varnished
with sweat.


Whatever is between us,
would this remain
hidden? Decide.
With one hand, nothing
springs forth. On
your other hand,
everything blooms
for me to ruin.
All I dream of
is this temple
formed by hands.
I arrange
its imaginary bouquets.

21 June 2017 / Summer Solstice
Takayama-cho, Ikoma-shi, Nara

P.S. This is such a nice break, writing.


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