The beauty is in in the odd moment
The in between
In the dark moments of the day and the bright flashes of night
It comes with bees, more orange than yellow
And that last grey-brown before it is actually pitch
The primary question of blending and muting
As pondered by the pastel adult
By far moot - all exist invaluable
Thistle in green eyes
Teal in red heart valves
Mint in all blonde with cerulean
Every instance of what has been baptized as something else
We watch the sun drop
And the rain drop
And the beat drop
Maybe aware the moment is coming
The movement is coming
The color of unexpected, of out of the blue
The fraction of a blink where we distinctly see it
Clear and loved
The soul is a weird purply-grey
A palate equipped for fabrication
While flawless as is
About the Creator
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