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.