Morning à Paris
In those places
where desire awakes,
Red
reigns supreme.
A color that takes,
A hue of power,
fire untamed,
fierce
yet still
unashamed.
For the ruby lips
that shall speak
of seduction,
too,
for the scarlet heels
made to command production.
Sensuality.
In the crimson glow,
there lies a mystique,
A force made to weaken
all the strong and sleek.
A small
scarlet dress,
clinging to her
every curve,
quick eyes on fire,
their desires observe.
Scarlet roses,
intoxicate senses,
flirtatious flair,
all leads
to a deep
starved mans
glare.
© bbvac
where desire awakes,
Red
reigns supreme.
A color that takes,
A hue of power,
fire untamed,
fierce
yet still
unashamed.
For the ruby lips
that shall speak
of seduction,
too,
for the scarlet heels
made to command production.
Sensuality.
In the crimson glow,
there lies a mystique,
A force made to weaken
all the strong and sleek.
A small
scarlet dress,
clinging to her
every curve,
quick eyes on fire,
their desires observe.
Scarlet roses,
intoxicate senses,
flirtatious flair,
all leads
to a deep
starved mans
glare.
© bbvac