I’ve packed my life into three suitcases. I wait for the nostalgia, but by now I am immune. I left for England once, for Mexico, for Spain. I jumped from an airplane two weeks ago and didn’t want the parachute to open. I was sure I could fly. I leave New York for the mystery of Japan. My apartment awaits and there is much tea to buy. Set it on the table. Treat myself to some green tea. Life must be coming to an end because it just tastes so good. The better it tastes the sooner it ends. It is all about sips.
South of Japan I’m heading, to the island most have not seen. I crave for the wonders of Shikoku, I dream of words I cannot speak. Come to me like the wind. I’ll get used to you, no matter how harsh. I’m sure I’ll like you.
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