The turquoise curl of purpose
Slides slyly into the pale blue hue of humility
While juxtaposed the rose red thread of credibility
Crosses swords with the ochre accord of joviality
Deep in thought the mauve marauding of the ordinary
Seeks reassurance from the yellow essence of excellence
While in pieces the cerise fleet of disbelief
Attempts to sell the story to the faun abode she can ill afford
Winding down now the rust clutch of dusk
Tips a wink to the pink invisible ink
For only she can know that the artichoke glow of faux control
Will erode the Emerald lens of ephemeral show
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