I wrote “it’s meant the world,” and hoped you understood I placed the entirety of my love into that line.

***

Sitting at a barstool next to a Yakuza intermediary and grabbing the next round as I listen to skirting the edges of legality and grey areas.

I wondered what happened in between. And what happens next as the story unfolds.

Memory and time don’t flow in a linear fashion. Years, days, ages— they move like a mosquito touching down and flitting off like a sunny day in winter.