We are sparring, the basement of Nu‘uanu Y.
I hear the clash of bamboo shinai, a little like
the rattle of the Hawaiian pū‘ili,
so we dance our Kendo hula.
And I thought, Whoa, this feels like an important dream,
the kind of dream that’s so profound, I’d better wake up
and write it down. But of course I didn’t,
because I had to keep sleeping, wanting to kiss you
after the final bow, after — whoa, the whirl of the blade,
that breezy sound, that hiss through the air,
the realization that all of a sudden we are wielding katana
for real, the glint of razor-sharp tempered steel,
the splitting of skin, the spurt of blood, the shatter of bone,
a frantic bleeding dance — all coming as a prelude to your kiss.
* * * * *
Today’s word is
sound
Use it in some kind of writing, even a haiku or a simple sentence, post it and link to me. Or simply leave it in the comments below. I would love to read what you write.
