dear toji,
its midwinter,
the dark half
of the year.
sunsets are still.
time for goru,
the last day
of harvest and
the arrival
of humanity.
the holly king
is decaying.
the oak reborn
from the left eye
of izanagi.
sweet amaterasu
removed from
her cave
and gasping
at the reflection
of radiant light.
tilt the mirror
this way
send your light
home.
