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Cotton Candy

Sometimes the sky is like cotton candy; soft hues of pink, white, and blue. Even during a storm the sky can seem like the sweetest thing, like a better place than the hard and unrelenting ground of Earth. Here beneath the endless celestial dome everything is crushing, the puffs of clouds are constant taunts of what will always be out of reach. I’d rather be consumed by the tempest than remain in this daydream.