What a lovely prison made of Japanese snowflakes and rice paper walls. Eyes closed, you sit with legs extended on wooden planks—quieting your breath in an effort to stem your heart’s electrical calamity. Clasp my wrist at the cuff of my jacket and tug the neckline to beckon my face forward. Pull my soul from the part in my lips, just below Cupid’s bow. Breathe deep.
- JBWM (aesthetic-value)