Now it’s tsuyu,
the stifling June rain.
Your hands are making me hot
and we feel relentless.
Rancid,
my buttery foreignness.
You hover,
a mosquito
in a love-stained room.
I smell the rotting tatami.
This is a reprint of work originally published in Typishly.
Alexandra Corrin-Tachibana enjoyed poetry as a young girl reciting poems in local annual Eisteddfods, in her childhood home near Bath, England. As an adult she spent a decade in Japan, teaching university students, and she now resides in Newcastle upon Tyne, teaching international students literature at Newcastle University. Alexandra began creating her own poems last year when she embarked upon an MA in Writing Poetry, at Newcastle University. This year she has had three poems published in Snakeskin and Typishly, and she was shortlisted for the 2018 Fish Publishing Poetry Prize.
Eunoia Review 