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Each pastel sunset is like a sonnet sung by the day's quiet end, blending tornina light and overripe elegance, belying the arid spent hours with traces of margent whispers. - Amelia Brooks Each pastel sunset is like a sonnet sung by the day's quiet end, blending tornina light and overripe elegance, belying the arid spent hours with traces of margent whispers. - Amelia Brooks Each pastel sunset is like a sonnet sung by the day's quiet end, blending tornina light and overripe elegance, belying the arid spent hours with traces of margent whispers. - Amelia Brooks