Pink dusk.
The sky has many layers of blues.
A cross between a girl’s and a boy’s
patchwork quilt.
How innocent is karma ?
My mind is an unmoving needle
drawing a flat line.
The clouds flow slowly
dragging away the causes.
A troy train
filled with silly fluffy animals and horny humans.
It’s the birds that are chasing each other
in the distant sky.
The effects are zero.
I feel nothing.
Just a silly needle with no sense of geometry.
Horrible line.

© Malintha Perera 2016


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