You look good in RED he said.

Paint your toenails Red, your fingernails too.

Paint your lips Red & let me smear it on you.

Wear that Red Dress, those High Heels, that Red jacket.

Walk in the Red Light, My Whore, My Delight, he said.

Drape yourself in Red fabric, keep running Blood Red.

Run around my bull-ring whilst I charge & push you.

The clowns can’t save you, they are useless against my bull-shit!

Dance for me, Parade for me, wear Red he said.

Your no Matador Lady in Red. Your my Door Mat he said.

Lie still while I leave Red marks on your body, while I bite & draw blood.

You will see Red when I slap you. Your tears taste like salt, he licks his lips, he loves salt.

Don’t tell anyone what I have done he said, as he rethreads his belt.

Your Pain is my Pleasure, I love you in Red he said.

Red is the colour of Passion, not Bashin!

My love is like a Red Red Rose not, a bloody nose!

Those welts will heal, those bite marks will fade but, the invisible scars of his narcissism will last, like an indelible Red Marker.

You Look Good In Red, he said.