Soaking Blood Red

Soaking Blood Red.

Blood red. The kind that reflects on the top side of the clouds from the sun. The kind that fades to orange, then yellow... Soft, mellow yellow. The kind that subdues the harsh tones and colures of life.

The kind that you can find in the city. Kansas City, New York City, L.A., anywhere. The bright flashing, probing, violating neon pinks, blues, greens, and black. Ah yes, deep, secretive, dangerous, deadly black. Not a colour, but rather a shade! As dark as any pool... The deep darkness that you can only find in a scary forest. Yes, a scary, mysterious, forest black.

That's where I was hiding. In black. All dressed in a soaking blood red. Completely transparent to everyone, everywhere. Lost willingly in my own forest in the City. I was drowning in blue. A peaceful blue, deep, and dragging. A vast drowning, dragging pool.

Only he could see me. In his eyes, the colour of the deepest pool. The same colour of the ocean on a stormy day. Set nicely in a beach of cream. A soft inviting cream, slightly high-lighted with a rose-quartz pink. And accompanied by lips that matched the last bit of red-pink light of the sunset.

And like the sunset, this cream coloured man was also followed by darkness. The course hair fell like dry, splintered strands of rich dark chocolate around him. It grew in tuff around his taffy skin... And he was dressed in soaking blood red.