Have you ever thought of how the sky bleeds colors?
When the birds fly by, their feathers drop beautiful pigments into the clouds which cascade through rain drops into the city, and that is how I see color.
They fly everywhere, of course; my birds have cried every color there is. They change as my emotions shift and squirm like a worm. Never has there been only one color falling from my sky.

Soar, will you?
My colors are sore, and so are the birds which release them.
Release them, will you?