Red, to some it is nothing but a colour, some say rouge and others say vermillion. Rage is red, the angry pigment, hatred the antonym of love. Yet they are both associated with the colour red, how ironic. Love and hatred, passion and rage correspond so much more than we know. Blood, our very blood is the brightest crimson, pumping faster and faster, making your heart pulsate against your thorax, whether it is fuelled by rage or by desire. The essence of our being, the true colour beneath our flesh, it is what makes us human.
We are all red, it is the essential colour of our being. You’ve never seen her look the way she does in her sanguine dress, like a sun kissed goddess dancing under the moonlight, pursing her scarlet stained lips, aware that you’re watching her. She feels exquisite in this dress, contrasting perfectly to the darkness behind her, she is a star bejewelled in the eventide. Red overcomes your mind, your thoughts tainted cerise as infatuation overwhelms you.
-Lostinsolitude
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