Red

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RED

I sit across from you.
Often wondering to myself,
If you saw me?

You were always with her.
The woman with red lips.
Or was it a gaudy lipstick?

Were you with her
Or were you just friends?
Did those lips paint yours red too?

The red paint
Brought dread in me often.
He used to wear it sometimes.
My father would make me let
Him paint mine red.

How do I tell you this?
How do I come and sit next to you?
How do I tell you to save your pink from her red?
After all,
Red has always scared us.

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