Kokoro Harumiya -

Tomorrow, she will braid her hair with fresh wisteria. Tomorrow, she will chase the lizard off the sacred rope. Tomorrow, the crow’s eggs will hatch, and she will name the chicks after forgotten flowers.

Kokoro closes her eyes. She breathes. She remembers the cherry petals caught in a spider’s web, glittering like trapped stars. She remembers the sound of rain starting exactly as a couple shares an umbrella for the first time. She remembers the way a cat stretches in a sunbeam, utterly convinced the warmth exists only for it. kokoro harumiya