When you spin her across the dance floor, it's the color of her dress.
When you're both drinking, its the color of the wine.
When you hold her its the blood flowing through her veins.
When you argue its the color of her cheeks.
When you leave its the door that slams.
Its the color of the flowers you buy for her.
Its the bra you find in your living room.
Its what you feel when you see him.
Its what you see when you drop the flowers.
Its the only thing to describe your anger.
~red~
