Neville

Kunoichi no Geisha

Kunoichi no Geisha

 

Sitting lightly

In my Very own

Darkness

And smiling brightly

With Arms

More folded

Than the laundry

You left at the feet end

Of our once

Shared tatimi rice mat

 

A distant flute called 

Discrete warnings  

Tho softly and broken

Like a bruised

Chrysanthemum  

While the strings of

My Father’s old wood

Shamisen each

Bleed fresh poetry

 

It was then

I found the daisho

Hidden

In the folds of her

Favorite kimono

Yes

It dawned on me then

I still craved sushi and

Dear Kunoichi was no

Ordinary geisha...