Little red car

Black on black, the crystal sheet
slipped gently
from the naked road, fell
wet upon her tarmac skin
as morning spilled
and tumbled in.

Warm hands of colour touch the scene;
a red-breasted bird,
a rusty-red car
and, all the while, my redder side pines
for red on red and the cotton sheet
where my naked love still lies asleep.

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