Friday, April 30, 2010

Red (rough draft)

I adore my new red dress, I can swirl and twirl it flutters and flies, the fabric giving notice of my passage. Red, Red, Red, a beacon in the light of day against the grey rocks and tumultous water of the North Atlantic.

Imagine mothers face, I am not allowed out by myself, red, red, red mother it looks so good on you. Father was so mad with me, his face as he saw....but I just wanted to feel the coming storm, red red red father it is a badge across your chest.

I danced around the house this morning in happiness and joy the freedom of movement and possiblities and so much to do. Red, Red, Red the colour of the flames that flicker and flow from the house in the harbour that was my castle, my prison, my fate.

I shall dance across the waves, away from the small figures that have turned from ruin and ash and have started towards me, I will not talk to them today. I will spin turning forever in my costume of crimson and scarlet. Red, red, red.