I remember

Every day now, I

close my eyes and a nighttime street comes to me

or Ikebukuro lights up like neon in my dreams

and I remember the feeling of sand between my toes

on Sekiya Beach as I got morning coffee

or I’m sitting with my computer in my lap

and I’m typing away

but the street outside Yoneyama comes back to me

and I remember the friendly, enthusiastic woman

who greeted us every time we got ramen

and nodded decisively as we awkwardly placed our orders

in broken Japanese

and I remember

the calm sensation

of walking as part of a group, but separate

with camera in hand

as cats slinked behind Inari

and spiders danced on Torii

and I remember

Roppongi and the museum

and the way it felt to look at ink beneath glass

and I remember

every day now

I remember.

I remember

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