Cherry Red

The sun slowly climbs over the horizon, a golden ball of purity blinding the helpless and homeless out of a restless slumber. A hint of blue can be seen through the mirror, promising smiles all day. The long lost rain a distant and shallow memory, lost in a haze, the taste and feel of cherry red still lingering on the lips. The most sacred thing two people can do and yet easily dismissed. In all my travels and incarnations of myself, I will always find more about someone in the caress of their lips than any sound that could ever pass by them.