Red is captivating, emitting a deep courage and intimate passion. Liquor bottles are tastefully arranged behind the bartender, and the room is dimly lit. That’s when you see her. She leans across the bartop, her red dress perfectly fitted. Her sangria red fingernails wrap around a martini glass as she takes a sip. Though the room is in din of conversation, you can’t take your eyes off her. Something about the color red draws you in, abstracting your attention. Your heart pulsates, as her essence tenants your mind and body. Red is the color you discern the first time you speak to her, tripping over words you’ve articulated a thousand times. Red is the warmth of your face, as your infatuation ripples through your nerves. Red is the fire in your arousal when you brush your hand against the small of her back. It is the sensuality when your lips first touch hers. Red is the tightness you feel in your chest the first time you tell her you love her. Red is your heart when you visualize a lifetime with her. This red comes quickly, and you pray it sticks around. Red is when you have your first fight with her. Your mind becomes turbulent with anger and fear. Fear you might lose her. Red is pain, but it is also forgiveness consumed in a dozen roses. Red is the sex after you makeup. Red is intense lust and longing, a craving for desire. Red is a fiery romance. Red radiates love, and so does she.

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h.davis