Restoration Project: the Bathhouse of the Spirits, a Japanese Sento


Dreams require a lot of incredulity. That’s why there aren’t any photos of them.
They start from nowhere, & you forget the way by which you came; it is never
a straight path. It is a present in which you are not you, in which you forget
your face. You’d like to think you’d recognize yourself, but it doesn’t work
like that.

If this story is difficult, why is it so simple to tell. All the birds leave. The sea
isn’t coming back. We spread germs & count our sorrows. Somewhere, someone
still hungers. You live every day as a servant to something.

Like my name, I repeat this so much that it loses meaning.

When it gets dark, you will wake to a world filled with dust where even light
disappears. You will need to build the unfortunate church of your body. Your feet
will be tired.

Let me tell you something about piety. It sounds like a song.

Sing softly with me—heave, heave.





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