ビワ (biwa)
the breath she pulls out of me
as i try on
this red
kimono
miki-san
come come she said
summer’s at the door and soon
you won’t be able to wear kimono
anymore
come come she said
i have the perfect one for you
君marie-chan
red doesn’t suit me
the heat my skin
ちょっと. ね
sorry, miki-san
how about the purple one
i wish you wore the red she sighs
so beautifulのに
her kindness suffocating
all my friends in her house
fabric covered floors
late spring heat
dolled up koi fish
we should call the news her hands clasped in delight
we should find a wedding for you all to go to
wait who’s getting married this weekend
oh miki-san
every week at my door
mountain fruits and
soil covered veggies
ryan woken up for an early morning delivery
and this portion, she instructs
for marie-chan who never picks up her phone
guilt filled smile
light filled morning
i can go days
without opening her messages
miki-san
i can only eat so many biwa
in a week
i gave her maple syrup
ah! she laughed
my husband will be glad!
and she placed the bottle
for dust to collect
right by a picture of him browning at the edges
his altar her small living room
the house always smells of incense
she’s all the
abundance and attention of a
coastal village
concentrated
miki-san
i love you but would like you better
if you stopped looking through my window
you hang your laundry differently she points out
don’t you these days ? marie-chan
it’s raining
she walked all the way to show me
the size of this onion
miki-san
the biwa
are falling off
my hands
you tighten the obi around my chest
my friend wears the purple kimono i asked for
she’s taller ので miki said victorious
ごめん no choice
but for you marie-chan
the red one
the red one
the winds blow over the coastline
in which she’s well rooted has been for years
and so i wear
the red kimono
miki-san
you feed me food i can’t get past my throat
the fabric is too tight
but
when i’m alone on these
lengthening evenings in my
noiseless house
i peel a biwa from your garden
there’s a pile of them by the altar
you braid my hair
and say
my husband you know
when he died
throat cancer
he couldn’t eat any good food
for a while until the end
so
i make a point you know
to give him
the best
everytime i think he’d enjoy something
i share it
with him
first
miki-san here i thought
you just
didn’t like maple syrup
you show me your wedding pictures
and the red kimono
you were wearing then
as tight as the fear
to waste any love
Cover image by Mike Dinsmore