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by Krista Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #2311331
A nap brought a strange dream. Or I had too much NyQuil.
If hues of red paint the Mars sky, then each sunset is a cosmic lullaby. The rusty glow, a fiery embrace, the universe itself painting with grace. Crimson clouds form a ballet, twirling and swirling at the end of the day.

Martian winds never die, blowing softly, urging me to fly. A canvas of red, a masterpiece divine, where time and space intricately entwine. Oh, darling, in this Martian trance, let's lose ourselves in a sultry dance. The echoes of history etched in the rocks, a language spoken in celestial locks.

If hues of red paint the Mars sky, it's a holiday for dreamers, you and I.
As the sun dips below the horizon's bend, our affair with Mars will never end.


Featured in "Fantasy Newsletter (November 6, 2024)Open in new Window.
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