Red-Orange Dreams, Blue Whispers In strokes of orange, fire ignites. A gaze of sun, out molten lights. The letters curl, they leap, they sway. Whispering stories in their own baldish way. But the blue sky drifts softly, in a cool embrace. The white bubbles of calm above the heated space. My muses become shapes, and shapes fly high. All while the symphony sung through modern eyes. @elgnart
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