"Whispering curls of cotton candy clouds," she said, "do the stars have ticklish feet?"
"Maybe they wear tiny shoes that dance on the breeze," he replied, eyes wide with wonder.
You can never have too many dust-bubbles in your pocket. Dreams hide in the feel of soft pink whispers.
Was it a rabbit that chased its own tail? Or perhaps a shadow that sings lullabies to the moon? A pink balloon would know.
Don't forget your glitter glow tomorrow, when puddles reflect secrets in rainbow hues.