Quickly, calmly, I appear before the vision of a bloom, shattered vases, scattered faces lying silent in this room.  Could you be the dancer I was searching for so long? The upheaval to the grievance that’s kept me chained to cellar walls? The sky blue ribbon in your bun is coming loose. I reach out my hand to pull it out, but you stop me. You like it there, that way. Your skin is only a film, a sheet above your bones and yet your face is so full. Your perfect, pink cheeks. I love every part of you. Spindle-fingers dance wildly when you talk. Needles stab my heart when you go away. And all you do is go away. Keiko, you’re unreal in all you do, you bring men to the fountain of forgetfulness, you lead me to the land of wax and thread. You’re a fixture in a world set in stone, buried in the sand.

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