Ephemera from a Dream:
A maiko san,
Attired for misedashi;
Resplendent in silk brocade.
Gilding her hair,
Two silver bira bira:
They shimmer and chime
At each gesture.
She is my imoto;
I am her one san.
In 17th Century Kyoto,
We were geiko han.
Today we reunite
In virtual spheres.
Face to face we have not met,
Yet essences brush over leagues and years.
Adamantine, the carapace
Occludes a tender heart;
He was my imoto,
I was his one san.
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