The Constant feeling he felt inside was never very clear to him until the day he finally met her. It was in comparison with a flame that couldn’t be snuffed, and it left him with a constant longing for tomorrow’s sun to set a new canvas in the sky. He would lie in the grass, stare upon the sky, and he would paint the sky using his imagination as the paint. Each new thought he would have was a different color, and he would piece them all together to make her. A portrait in the sky is what he would create, and in his eyes it was a masterpiece.
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