I am going to mail this letter from the Mount Fuji post office
using a watermark made from the mist of pale silver clouds
and orange ink from a worthy sunrise waiting in white cold:
the watermark will hide its secrets from Aokigahara's demons.
I scratched the stations patiently in burning calligraphic strokes
taking the better part of night and the better part of icy breath
to hang before the fading torch so that my ink is mostly hidden:
to climb the volcano once is sublime, to climb twice is foolish.
Or so my letter says.
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