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.