The held blossom in the twitten
reminded me of sakura in Japan –
when we climbed Mount Yoshino –
anami to Oku Senbon
There I kissed your pencil lips
which tasted of the last yatai –
where my mouth passed across
the flowering of your eyes
We had spread our picnic blanket
as the sun rose on the arc –
a place under cherry blossom
a wide view across the park
That held flower is the carrier
of my re-imagined returns –
to our love in Nara prefecture –
as the sakura blushed and turned
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