the room is dark except for the light from his phone and the lightness that comes when he thinks of her

たくぼく wrote / in romaji so his wife / wouldn't know / I think of 扇 / and practice ひたがな

just as he thinks / she has chosen not to write / she sends / a lovely poem / and surprises him again

this time of day / he starts to anticipate / sunrise in にはん / when the light reconnects the / thread of their conversation

pandemic haircut / an unexpected stirring / when she unhooks / the mask from my ear / as though undressing me

his final days / and we both know it / still he lights one up / those things will kill you I say / he looks at me then laughs

sitting alone / on the porch at dusk smelling / the desert rain / I wait for you to wake / so we can chat again