I remember the night my father threw the fish back into the water.
That night my father's soul died, and so did my childhood
Torn from comfort thrown into a willow world
A paper screen over my eyes, painted in cherry red and ochre yellows
I remember my maid clothes, mother's foul breath down my neck, and Grannie's sharp words.
Too much water, spoiled my chances, the demon Hatsumomo twisted me.
She was so beautiful, like a tiger locked behind a silver cage, waiting to lash out.
I watched her whiten her face, smooth her cheeks, stain her lips, with my sorrows.
Her outlined eyes caught my gaze through the glass and smiled at my adoration.
She saw her rival in me, a girl who had rain for eyes, a weak startled child she could mould.
I dreamt I was her, My hair high on my head, my charms seducing men. My lips red.
Mameha sheltered me from pain, turned me from Chiyo to most celebrated Geiko in all the Hanamachi.
I remember my dance, the chairman's eyes, Dr crab's gaze flicking over mine in the darkness. The beat of the drums and the grains in the floor. Sadness.
The sea in Yorido used to wail at night, I wailed when I was alone, I wailed for Satsu,
My mother, my broken father.
I wailed for the chairman.
When I saw him again, I saw the old me, Chiyo scared and bewildered against the Geisha world. No where to hide.
The Baron's hands were deft and nimble at untying my obi, Mameha shed a silent tear when I told her
'he was my baron' she whimpered. 'Mine'
We geisha, we are never our own, our Dannas smile at our sweetness, yet never wish to love us dearly like a wife or soul mate. Happiness is not ours to own, it is a privilege when it enters our lives.
When the tiger left, humiliated, I reined the Okiya, I reined the Hanamachi. My rain eyes saw the sadness, saw the chairman, and saw my future with him.
His words were soft against my charred heart, he spoke a language only Chiyo understood,………………………….words only Chiyo could, love.
Now as I sit and watch the yellow taxi cabs in New York city, or stroll across grassy knolls, It is hard to believe that I, was a Geisha, a shadow, a song, and fleeting glance, a young girl who held the hearts of men in her palm.