Red

Copper tinged and full of tragedy. I could smell it. He wore it like armor, but guilt is not so easily shed.

Not like clothing trimmed in coins.

I could hear his heartbeat throbbing in my head. Demands to leave were heard, but unbidden.

Responsive motivation. An act of judgment. A curtain call that would lead to the next act.

Beauty isn’t always held by beast and bitter burdens aren’t always one man’s to bear. Acceptance. I understood. I’ve always understood.

Prints of passion bathed in blood, a lustful liaison that only sees red.

Forgive.

Forget.

Until the next time.

I'll see you then.