Red

Red is anticipation,

your nerves and your hope.

Red is the lights,

blinding you and flashing with the sound of the drums.

Red is ecstasy,

that irreplaceable rush at the new and exciting.

Red the flush of her cheeks, the shine of her dress,

the tension when your eyes lock with hers.

Red is the need,

roiling and ripping through you.

Red is a pomegranate,

her juices bursting and running through your fingers.

Red is the growth,

familiar and warm and it feels like home.

Red is the flowers and fruits,

blooming in her garden and adorning your house.

Red is the ache,

the fear of the end you know is coming.

Red is a few drops of blood,

dripping down your face.

Red is the howling,

the burning in your chest and your heart.

Red is her life,

slipping through the cracks in your hands.

Red is agony,

the pit in your life and your soul.

Red is life and love,

Red is death and rage.

Red is the beginning and the end,

Red is soul and heart and everything and nothing and

Red is the color you remember.