It was a message in the fires of June. Red honey composed the text, vague and gossamer. The letter begged me to wait, in what pain silence gives. Crush what blue the sky had that day. In her last message, ash and cinder on my eyes. In what was more than lust on velvet bed now lays icy. In what now is but a chain to something now left wayward. No dreams of other shores. Just wait away from the warmth of the June fires. Always here, until my eyes close in these shadows.

– Mitsuo Tanaka


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