The sky that night was alight with more than red hues than have ever been granted names, yet not so much that the soul cannot appreciate them all at once.
Red was the mittens that warmed my hands and the bonny scarf too, for in those days of snow-spun white I was the wintry bloom.
Keep track of your favorite writers on Descriptionari
We won't spam your account. Set your permissions during sign up or at any time afterward.