These heavy cathedrals of stone fall before me whenever I come to witness the blues melt into the golden shores and the ink spill across the molten sea. This hungry mouth tilts to swallow its treasure whole. I hear the random slap of waves below and watch these muscular cliffs tug and yank at this opulent rug. I stand where the scene slips away and know that all I could ever do was get close to what is far beyond me.
Do the cliffs close in to the right or open up to the left? Are these echoes of each other, without a source? Or are they more like strips of paper simulating weight through shading?
And because why not put them together.
And just for fun.