Melonkaria
Another world in flux rings a
true intimate intensity floating
on fingerprint theories of colors
in mythical memory orbits. Symmetry
by orphaned skye blue exiles
never looking back beyond now--
gray matter time marches on toward
my chaste chromatic fantasy of
ghosts we never knew. In this
half awake mainframe madness a
distant shadow guides my thorny
imagination to an aquatic firestorm
lo-fi omissions, when the summer of our
love, you left me, like broken machine
keys--non sequitur. A last kiss starlight
sweet and sour--that last dance like fast
approaching trains fares paid but passengers forgotten
far, far from a homeward embrace----forget
past wrongs of verbal malice aforethought—-
nothing personal,
Kari.
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2021
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