春 01
haru
haru
club
星図 02
Before dawn, the sky loosens its ink.
The first map of spring is not drawn on paper. It appears in the cool pane of glass, in breath, in the small gold point that refuses to disappear when the room grows pale.
枝 03
A branch crosses the page like an unfinished sentence. Between its strokes, the night places five pale blossoms and calls them stars.
starlight thaws —
one petal rests on the glass
morning has arrived