these february days are drowning
in my second year i had made a pilgrimage out to the whirlpools
the water was green, as was the bridge and the forest that surrounds
every february since, from the first to the twenty-eighth i can feel my soul being sucked in
dragged to the bottom of the ocean in the sea goddess’s rage
can’t you see? these february days are choking up salt-water
the taste of sea bream on the twenty-third














