I remember a train to Meiji Jingu
I remember uncertain eyes
I remember a chapter ended,
in the quiet dim of her place in Hakusan

I remember a hero’s mission
I remember his weakness too
I remember a chapter opened,
with bright white at his room in Vaucluse

I remember the author’s depictions
I remember onyx deep nail polish and eyes
I remember the heroine’s Eartha Kitt voice,
timbre thick and warm as a purr

I remember a two-city backdrop
I remember vibrant neon and high-rise skyline
I remember where sleeping sailboats rocked gently
on moonlit harbour waters too

I remember each act in the story
I remember each page that was turned
I remember the plot only deepened
with Hie Jinja’s Shinto rites.

I remember a character’s sacrifice
I remember her alien and displaced
I remember a life newly formed of them
the next story foreshadowed in love

I remember each turn and each dip in this tale
I remember each hope and each loss
I remember, I remember the quiet dim
of Hakusan, where in story they were wrote.