The flame that lies within

The sting of bitten cuticle bruises.

The red rain boots playing in the puddles.

The sparkle of bright Christmas bows.

The crimson lips that passionately share a kiss under the mistletoe,

merry and bright just as the lights strung atop the fireplace.

A stop sign, a bold beacon commanding the

chaos of a beating heart.

Sometimes the red block button, regret and

reconsideration of a ruby rose.

The ripe apple sitting patiently as it

waits for the soft whisper of autumn’s breeze.

The nosebleed, running down towards

the daring red lipstick.

Rather, I am the little ladybug that radiates

love, a feeling that swells in the heart.