In the aftermath of the battle,
peace is woven with loose threads between embraces and kind words.
The anger subsides, but something sinister remains
after the battlefield has been swept clean.
Tiny, barely detectable; invisible it festers.
Can you taste this bitterness I can’t completely swallow
when our tongues press each other in their victory dance?
November 3 – 5, 2025 (東京)
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