Walk a mile

Contradictions

It is rage,
fists clenched so tight
your fingers ache,
teeth grinding.

Love,
a blushing heat
stealing into your cheeks,
making you dream of
sweet, innocent,
close-mouthed kisses.

Passion,
clouding your mind,
a desperate need for
release.

The tight, painful prickle of
sunburn and
regret.

The warm comfort of
a hot water bottle on
a crisp night.

It is the sear
of ice against
naked flesh.

The wail of a siren
that only ever heralds
pain and tragedy.

The obnoxious screech
of a fire alarm
jolting you from a sound sleep and
flooding you with adrenaline.

The crackle of a fire as
you snuggle with your lover
on a soft rug and
whisper promises and
fantasies.

It is the tart punch
of a pomegranate
as the seeds slide
down your throat.

The mellow heat
of mulled wine
seasoned with cinnamon
and star anise.

The plastic flavour
of lipstick,
leaving you wishing for
honesty.

Red is a contradiction.


Free verse. Written 16 January 2016.