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Crimson and Blue
by Hope O'Neill
Because you ask for blue
I lose my head
Because you ask for blue
I think of red
Red as the wedding dresses
of Japan
Red as the blood of martyrs
on the sand
Red as these canna planted
in a row
Red as the lips of children
in the snow
Red as the sunset
on a summer cruise
Red as this address book
I must not lose
Red as a fleeting promise
to be true
Red as the embers
when it all went blue
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