Red
Red-the color of blood, the color of passion, and of sultry salsa dances in the sweltering Miami heat. Red is the sting of embarrassment that grips you when you say the wrong words in mixed company. It's the color of a desire to run as fast as you can, because you hope a rock will invite you to crawl under it. Red is the color of a midlife crisis somewhere in the Malibu hills; a midlife crisis on four wheels and a marble driveway, and a soon to be ex-wife. Red is the color of seduction-of Jessica Rabbit, or of Daphne Moon, wooing Niles Crane to utter his heart's passion, finally. Red makes us do things we normally wouldn't do.
Red makes shy little boys of even the braves of men-it renders us speechless, wen we so badly want to ask her to dance. It's the color of the haze that surrounds your mind as you gon in for a first kiss. Red is an intoxicating, rare, hair color-a blaze of fire as a crown of her beauty. Red is painted on the walls of our hearts whenever she holds our hand-red sings a romantic song as it paints a sunset, fitting for such a moment.
By contrast, Blue experiences sadden our spirits, and gray skies leave us empty, and black clouds warn us of life's impending rain. But Red? Red sizzles and sparkles; it cries for attention in nuances of natural lure and tempting craft. Red is a fire burning deep within us all-fires that have the power to utterly consume, if we're not careful. So-
I'll take my chances-I'll entertain Red's ideas every now and then. I have a strong suspicion, after all, that blues and grays and blacks can only achieve their depth because of red's fancy-and fancy it, we do.
Red makes shy little boys of even the braves of men-it renders us speechless, wen we so badly want to ask her to dance. It's the color of the haze that surrounds your mind as you gon in for a first kiss. Red is an intoxicating, rare, hair color-a blaze of fire as a crown of her beauty. Red is painted on the walls of our hearts whenever she holds our hand-red sings a romantic song as it paints a sunset, fitting for such a moment.
By contrast, Blue experiences sadden our spirits, and gray skies leave us empty, and black clouds warn us of life's impending rain. But Red? Red sizzles and sparkles; it cries for attention in nuances of natural lure and tempting craft. Red is a fire burning deep within us all-fires that have the power to utterly consume, if we're not careful. So-
I'll take my chances-I'll entertain Red's ideas every now and then. I have a strong suspicion, after all, that blues and grays and blacks can only achieve their depth because of red's fancy-and fancy it, we do.