by Keiko Shibata

 

Image

at dusk

the skin of the city

a massage of delight

I don’t care to see

the sutured scar

underneath the face

and prefer no shadows

holding an umbrella

the rain

will eventually fall

regardless of choice,

a lingering word

does suffice

for my ears

alone together

we enlighten each other

please listen carefully

let’s lick our dream

and walk 

as sunset bequeaths a smile,

a caressing thought

your voice is soft

we come to the bridge

the mind clicks

like a camera shutter,

we touch and then depart

you cross alone

on a different path

but to know

is better than to not,

I stare in the distance

a feeling instilled

two spirts

covered with a mist,

my head hears an echo

the peal of a bell

but it’s only a recording

of receding moments

and that’s precious enough.