Kakitsubata

And the phosphorus burning in bones, and the sharp dirk of thought will help, while I'm a guest at yours,

MMXXII

Encounter

骨 bone kotsu / hone The hard frame of the poem — phosphorus, a blade, whatever is left over.
And the phosphorus burning in bones, and the sharp dirk of thought will help, while I'm a guest at yours, to steal, steeped in arsenic, the tastiest little cake of my life.
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