Red
My dreams have been bathed in your red. A Vermillion Empress lies blooming before me with a kalidoscoping halo of blurred exaltation and cinnamon treasures. Your red pulses and rivulets across the spectrum with graceful combustion. In this red, a drove of Chinese dragons snap jaw grapple each other fruitlessly hoping for the smallest lock or the lightest kiss of your sanguine glimmer. Your red is a confection-dusted butterfly floating on the tip of God’s finger at the most temperate moment of creation. Your red is the magic that isolates the vastness of possibilities. Your red cold roasts my inspiration. Your red is the hue that engulfs the heart of the largest suns of our humbling universe, expansive, endless and completely contained within the twinkle in your eye.