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Synesthesia
Summer is yellow, laughter, and sweet tastes.
Blue is how I feel when summer fades,
like walking into a cold room with a crowd you don’t know.
Blue is the sound of a fan being on high.
It’s as if it’s stuck like that, forever blowing cold.
Blue is insecurely vibrant.
It hides its sadness until it bubbles over, like a winter storm on a sunny day.
Winter is blue, silence, and the taste of nothing.
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