poetry

Lady in Red

She’s the lady in red,

Sitting cross-legged, her adventures outlined on my bed.

Neither a fabric nor a thread;

Bare her body, soaring dreams in her head

Curls reckless in black brush her cheeks, then to her shoulders they fled.

Her breasts hold the charm of a newly-wed

Inhibitions she shred;

Covered waist down in silk, many men astray she led;

Her eyes, ah the exquisite charm of the dead

Engulfed in smoke, cigarette between her fingers intricately held,

Kissing her lips draped in scarlet red

Heavens, she’s a maiden in red!

poetry

Fifty Shades of Red

The first stain of puberty

The second, a sign of purity

My first love,

The butterflies and balloons

The flowers and chocolates

The first heartbreak

Tokens, souvenirs,

The color of the bus, when I left home

The angelic city

My first house

His first sight

My perfect story

His drink

The hookah pot and the smoke

My heart skipping a beat

Those years,

Energy shift

The color of her lips on his

My lost love

His betrayal,

That summer

Tears and transformations

Anxiety and my anguish

Unseen scars on my soul

My now shorter curls

The dairy, I opened that Sunday

The venue, his arrival

His aura

His rage

His magnetism

Aztec print shirt

The lights in his room

His angry birds blanket

My heart beating all over again

My rebirth

His face

My trembling lips

The blood rush

The brain freeze

My happy soul

The next morning,

Phosphenes,

His ghost,

My achy breaky heart

His memory

My dreams

New hope

New life

New city

My new found power

All in shades of Red