Man-Made, Yet a Human Brain Was Cooked Into Stygian-Hued Glass By Spilling Lava In 79ad

A curve of sky in a corner cusps a smooth, thick dusting of carrot-mauve hues tonight. Drapes over heather trees whose arms and hands bend with this drowsy sky as it starts to fall asleep- the cyrean "silk" upon which this cantaloupe tint is traced, daubed, by the brushstrokes of Mother Nature; is ready for the deep onyx doves-with halos- of a cold Spring night. With the Heavens' cut diamonds-for the Goddess- and immaculate lambency. This soft lusty Dusk will Father a shiny glass red rose, a radio balefire that will capitivate through the limbs of the esteemed trees, wink through this Springtime's beetling intimacies on a windy night. The man-made magenta comforts as it beams next to the "Sunrise Field", mowed emerald blades under another sky of day-break pigments- a dawn placenta of bright lemon vanilla, and little sugar- coated strawberry juices- another corner of the clay, sea, and cloud-and ash- colored campus- bewitching oil paintings in crystalline emblems...