In the red room’s corners, the dawn’s burning flame
Spills like wine, spreading quiet and tame.
Sunlight, tattered, yet rich in its glow,
Whispers a secret only red can know.
The walls blaze like branches caught in a fire,
Hot streams of embrace climb ever higher.
It feels like our bodies are caught in a blaze,
But it’s sunlight that dances, igniting our veins.
On the glass faces, warmth softly gleams,
Like echoes of July in fragmented dreams.
Yet here, all turns to fragile glass,
Hurling hot echoes as shadows amass.
Time curls trembling upon the floor,
Breath fills the room, and red pulses more.
The heart, like blood, swells in its flood,
The apartment sways where the fading light stood.