Red Is The Color Of Our Lives (And Red Is The Color Of Our Blood)

Reverence

rev·er·ence
/ˈrevərəns/
noun
deep respect for someone or something.
.....
"The night will hold us close
And the stars will guide us home
I've been waiting for this moment
We're finally alone
I turn to ask the question
So anxious, my thoughts
Your lips were soft like winter
In your passion, I was lost.."
-After Dark by Mr. Kitty.
_________________________________________

Purgatory.

If any place on earth can be magnified to dwell to one simple fucking word of your complex estrangement of the where you were right now.
It's most certainly Purgatory.

Tentatively stuck in a desert with a lake of water broached in sand and seer visions of old; your instincts warn you; crafted- bones honed in primordial times and linked with paths of chieftains upon matriarchs in your families lineages of a way of life; the apple never falls far from the treaded lulls of life that sink and bubble down to nothing more than a seer in your stomach shouting, screaming in your hammering heart in your chest to 'Get out...Run.'

Pompeii.
The end of the world is here.

Reaped and sowed through the very embodiment of the God of War in the office chair that seemed too small even if it was custom made for his domineering and Austrian frame: König.
King..

Homage paid in gun powder, vice grips on fronted forked blades and leveled out pungent scents of inchor blood of black stallions found in ashes and strongest of OX cut throated and burned on fires to appease gods found sharpened hands and muscles bunching and tensing on fields of danger.

Everyday is the end of the world and foretold in the breath found in your hollow lungs as König raked his gaze uo and down your frame borderly.
Emerald gaze piercing you throughout the entire process as he flicked your features before settling on your face, eyes locking and the catastrophic ensures your fall from the heavens and the volcano erupts into the unholy blight.

He had not a clue what he was doing to you.
Maybe he did.
Then again; there had to be reason why a KorTac Colonel had summoned you, a SpecGru corporal to the manner of his room and homage of an office.
It looked like a sanitary zone..

Desk pristine oak and leveled to be well kept and paper work organized and transferred to show the care the giant takes in to raking into things he loves.
How he takes care of things he loves.

You felt a jealous pit forming in your stomach at the doting ductless attentive on the darkned oak of the desk and ductless dust missing on the small bookshelf full of books bolstering with different book marks.
All in an arranged order of color of outside border spine of the books.

He adjusted himself in the chair.
And the fall of heaven continued

But the soldier in you keeps you planted.

Spurred on by the sudden motion of his voice..
Laden crackle of nerves on the most sensitive laden parts of your loosely screwed confidence at the sudden exhale of an abrupt sound rumbling out of the Colonels chest as he spoke..
Spine going blatant rigid and preened into the notion of the forest in that gaze you misinterpreted and mustered enough courage to finally meet again.

You felt like a foolish school boy in grade school all over again doting over boys whom never see you for whom you where or laden the time to splayed your fears into the open and speckle each and everyone into soft words ajs murmurs of a warm feeling in your gut.

"Damhirschkuh."
Doe.

The nickname doesn't register at first in your second language of German barely learned and leveled beneath the gummy kilting of your frontal cortex and sent a bitter shiver down your spine as your head snapped to Königs frame indefinitely and body going rigid and attentive..like a doting pup.