I love few things quite like borderline darkness
The promising
Hopeful
Winter 7 am dusk
Or the
Relaxed anxious excitement of
8 pm summer nights
The smallest shred of light peers out from behind its curtain.
I love when the sky goes that
Blush brushed beautiful
A sharp inhale of astonishment
At that choke-on-your-bubblegum colored
coral, citrus, and blue
The one of a kind masterpiece that frames the air
of an august dream.
More striking than any
Leak from the palms of
man, woman,
picasso, da vinci, monet
A kind of unique
Almost as incapable of being replicated
As the human
matching every shade of pink
tracing every wisp of cloud
Onto tight canvas.
Not even a rigid sail
or the needle of a high rise
Could pierce that impossible to ignore perfection
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