There were streamline colors
coming from the tattered bristles
giggling as they washed the bleach white
submerging the green then, yielding veteran status
wind blows faintly as paint drips boldly
watch as it comes together under the big tent
the main act of primary hues and saturation
the side tents of oranges, violets, and greens
offsetting and clashing with ferocious force
Can you hear the gnash of prismatic beauty?
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