this temple

i rose with a sense

my senses

told me stories

one after the other

she was

she wasn't

she had slept in my arms

she had slept outside

there was no telling

there were no words

the measured shuffle

of satin slippers on ricepaper

the sudden flutter

of birds

a whispered scent

of cherry blossom

a solemn 

morning sun

colouring the mist

i was entirely

empty

of myself

and in this moment
i was

entirely contained

in everything else

ito yuhan      kiyomizu temple in spring