Red, red is the color of my hunger,
like the blood that flows from the cut
on my left ring finger. Like the rose that
withered on                  my front door step.
Like the color               of my cheeks or
the echoing of a bruise. Your hunger
is a darkness that is simply
nothing, like            a black hole of
constantly               collapsing stars
that shine                  like an angler fish’s
allure. Like                a deep, deep green
that feeds                   upon the beautiful.
Like a hypnotic            blue that envelopes
you in a trance              of one thousand pounds.