Kunoichi no Geisha

Kunoichi no Geisha

Sitting lightly
In my very own
Darkness
And smiling brightly
With Arms
More folded
Than the laundry
You left at the feet end
Of our once
Shared tatimi rice mat

A distant flute called 
Discrete warnings  
Tho softly and broken
Like a bruised
Chrysanthemum  
While the strings of
My Father’s old wood
Shamisen each
Bleed fresh poetry

It was then
I found the daisho
Hidden
In the folds of her
Favorite kimono
Yes
It dawned on me then
I still craved sushi and
Dear Kunoichi was no
Ordinary geisha …