what is form to you?
what does form mean to you?
certainly not this not this
and not what we constantly question
surrounding this ownership of body
almost shape we might instead
question recognition see ourselves here
do you see me? where do i stop?
where does form begin?
a shadow is a bleeding thing
and even that is familiar
‘22 Periplus Fellow
‘23 Tin House Resident
‘25 Tin House Summer Workshop Alumnus
‘26 candidate for their MFA in Literary Arts at Brown University
Winner of the 2024 CRAFT Memoir Excerpt & Essay Contest
Winner of the 2025 Brown University Frances Mason Harris Prize
Asakura’s work is informed by conversations with trees, meditations on post memory & lineage, parallelisms & unreliable realities, the inhabited body as landscape, and contemplations forward into radical joy.
Interview with Mommy’s El Camino
‘23 Tin House Resident
‘25 Tin House Summer Workshop Alumnus
‘26 candidate for their MFA in Literary Arts at Brown University
Winner of the 2024 CRAFT Memoir Excerpt & Essay Contest
Winner of the 2025 Brown University Frances Mason Harris Prize
Asakura’s work is informed by conversations with trees, meditations on post memory & lineage, parallelisms & unreliable realities, the inhabited body as landscape, and contemplations forward into radical joy.
Interview with Mommy’s El Camino
Contact me here
Publications
2024 CRAFT Memoir Excerpt & Essay Contest
Excerpt of “Window” | Judged by Donald Quist
Tupelo Quarterly
August 6th, 19_5 | apparition | death in the family
Joyland
Excerpt of “Descent”
Zone 3
blue house full of blue bodies | a fire on wind can make any brush blush
The Lantern Review
until mourning
O:JA&L
altar | she wears me whenever i wear her jeans | kamikaze bugs look like my hands when i’m holding onto him | in our house | oyster shells can sing if they are empty
Rogue Agent
self as girl
Rogue Agent
march
The Mantle
over coffee, with evaporated milk
Rigorous
new life | lepidoptera | hiroshima | on daughters | first love
Jeopardy Magazine
[s]kin