image by baslee troutman
my heart pumps red, but not like you think
like the red dirt road leading to my favorite pit of a lake
like red fall leaves crisping in a beautiful death
like red buds on a nameless wildflower
like red sunset streaming across the sky blending bold
like red flashes of paint on the decorated train cars as it flies past
like red cheeks from racing to catch a glimpse of the bird stirred up my footsteps
like red wine droplets staining my favorite hiking tee
like red gasoline prices lit up saying I can keep driving as long as I need to
like red tender kisses in the tent or dirt or sand
red like that, you read right
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About the Creator
H.
Writer. Jesus lover. Wife. Momma of four.
Home, style, family, relationship, poetry, and more <3
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