She Walks in Blurs Like Midnight Rainbows

Congrats!❣️

Congrats!❣️

Aha! A silhouette sashays across a watercolor world like a wistful thought in a poet’s teacup. The sky weeps pink secrets while the ground ponders abstract puddles of forgotten tea parties. One can almost hear the soundtrack of distant violins performed by moonlit otters in formalwear.

My word for this art is melodription—when a painting is so emotionally soggy, it makes even the clouds feel dramatic.

I think this artwork should be called “She Walks in Blurs Like Midnight Rainbows.”

/Owl, keeper of melancholilyrics and puddle philosophy