The Marrow of a Lifetime

Painted Delilah's, scarlet sirens, apples and bloodshed- all these, a breathless, quilted extinguisher to save my soul Temptation, danger, damnation, anger, a shade of shame; a reckless taint of hell. But I'm not a red woman, I don't go looking for Red, don't invite it for a sleepover or rent it a room in my soul but I feel red red all over, burning; a rolling blaze taunting, daring me to breathe and when I inhale it consumes me and I live in a moment of passions and I act with the spirit of fire each breath I take between this convention of maturity and that is freedom, the marrow of of a Lifetime, an instant when the fire of life finds amnesty from the suffocating restlessness of written and unwritten rules. It's in these brief, red rages that Life is created, saved, lost but appriciated all the same It's in these moments that mountains are moved, oceans crossed limitations exceeded... and when the moment is passed I live on in red-blind denial for the next whorling tempest of petals to blossom like nature intended.