The cargo deck is filled with small bodies.  A mass of  tangled limbs clinging to each other. I    try to hold on to my baby sister as we are tossed about the dank floor boards, pelted with the spray of  high swells. Her sweet  scent singles her from the others, the fragrance of a powdery new born.   Yesterday we were laughing lingering along the dirt path that lead to our our way  from school  along the dirt path to our  house of walls, windows, and dirt floors.    We covered our eyes from the burning sun and rejected the slanted eyes of the men in the van who rode alongside us. Scattering our books along the dirt road we were bound and blindfolded with the others.  Later in the night  we are miles off the coast of Venezuela,  surrounded by indigo seas,  we can hear the voice of the boatman, harsh and hurried, his slits of eyes watch  for followers.  We are fed La Rochas to  transform our terror into sugar colored dreams.  Waking up we are in a floating world of pale pink and  silk fans. The face of the Thai Man smiles  behind  angry walls.



Ohga Hasu


54 thoughts on “Cherry Blossoms

  1. Powerful words, Holly! This piece is a love/hate for me, as it should be. 🖤🖤🖤
    Funny enough, I just signed an AVAAZ petition to retry a gang of men in Ireland so that their time would equal their crime.

    The Petition Begins:
    “A gang in Northern Ireland kidnapped, beat, raped and sold 20 year old Anna for sex THOUSANDS of times. And did the same thing to dozens of others. They were caught, and convicted, for the SECOND time for some of their crimes.

    But they just got 8 MONTHS prison time!”

    I SAY:

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow!! Such tragic and harsh imagery that are subjected to people, and the descriptive portrayal you put it just touches the heart and it sickens me that people are treated like that. Such heart put into this powerful post!

    Liked by 1 person

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