“The Maiko accompanies her sisters on hundreds of nights out. Sometimes she is away for days at a time. She often finishes work as the local children are walking to school. Each year, familiar faces are replaced by new ones. The Okiya always looks the same – spanning the entire block, rows of lattic...
I wear the clothes
And the mother comes after me
I wash the floor
And the lenses keep track of me
And the lenses keep track of me
Spider on the wall
Was calling me by name
Her fragile little webs
Grew too dangerous to stay
She looked into my iris
Crawled inside the hole
I plucked her from my ear canal
She thinks that I’m her home
You own the house
Does it mind when I make it creak?
I have a bed
And I think I sleep
The directives are growing weak
Oh
Must we pretend?
Oh
Must we pretend
That we’re so different?
Okiya