And you?

 

The taste of white chocolate with flecks of freeze-dried strawberries


About loss, relief, days filled with mysteries
and the taste of black sesame.
I mark Sashiko in watercolour, whichever way the stitch goes.
Against the pale cotton background. In the recesses of summer nights.
I live in the distance, I live with my defeat, quietly, limiting sugar,
white flour, all kinds of fools.

And you?

You talk about daphnia, threads rippling just above the water,
the penetrating green which begets mould, a raid coming from the ocean,
waning ground picked up by waves, stones appearing out of nowhere.
Wild beaches with no path, no seam.

We go through cycles, we pass each other in collections, between letters.
And you say you dreamed it all, the west coast
the taste of smoked fish, the oyster festival hidden behind paper masks.