THE STORY Riots of neon.
New futures, and stark contrasts.
Reality blurs.
Electric and crisp.
Eccentric without reason.
Or rhyme. 4 am time.
Translucent we are,
as we bathe in pinks, pale green,
incense and amber.
Bright petals on the
black bough of night. So we go,
back again. So Tokyo.
