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.
