Shoko Imano

Promontory




Someone I have never even met
Somewhere I have never even been
A word I have never even uttered
A poem I have never even heard
A pain I have never even felt
A sense of tranquility in which I have never been blanketed
A color I have never even seen
I float until the I that defines me fades away
But when I casually open my eyes I find I have remained in the place I was before
A place to which I cannot walk
A person who in passing I cannot meet
A landscape I cannot perceive merely by traveling to take in the view
Half of me becomes translucent
My eyes become half blind
I tentatively inch forward


Shoko IMANO