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Synesthesia
A baby’s cry is a bright green, as it makes mothers feel sick to hear the sound.
A whisper looks like the leaves on the trees just barely flickering, in a light summer breeze.
The texture of turquoise feels like the smoothe ocean waves, the cool water brushing across your skin.
At the edge of silver is the rushing of blood down your body as you stand up too fast, losing balance and seeing splotches of yellow.
At the top of tomorrow waits the smell of fresh grass clippings on a sweet spring morning, knowing that something new is to come.
The enemy of green hides between the feeling of the soft sand between your toes, waiting for a creature to reach out and pinch you.
If you turn hope on high, you’ll see the salmon hues reaching out, trying to grab you to take you to a new place.
When you tiptoe through the Valley of Happiness, you might find the smell of freshly baked cookies, bringing nothing but a smile to young kids faces
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