The fervent buzz of an infinite dreamway bursts forth from the silver-tipped tail of a black cat. Point your nose to the north, twitch your whiskers, and imagine yourself walking on waves. A dead poet you dream about who had a Virgo sun wants you to know that fortune favors the bold. Did you know that the moon is shaped like a lemon?
Today: the color of a mourning dove, ametrine, music in the key of F, the taste of pink peppercorn, and the sweet smell of tonka beans.
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