by
Ava Toshiko Deutsch
The sixth time ice creeps up from nail beds,
know something is wrong
Pluck tiny petals off the vanhoutte spirea
behind the garage
and let them drift into sunless hair from above
Less a crown and more a veil
When resurfacing 19 years later,
the moon filtering through the canopy of Chuo Shinjuku Park
will remind you that you still exist
You don’t need to know something
to hide in it.
Ava teaches, advocates, and writes. She is a Japanese/Italian-Canadian interested in migration, belonging, and how mental health is filtered through diasporic experiences. She recently moved back to Toronto after time in New York and Tokyo.
