Red like hearts
red like lips
red like the poison of your kiss
red like your hands
and their betrayal
red like the cherry
topping this cake
red like the blood
which runs from my veins
red like my anger
red like my pain
red like the flags
– warnings in vain –
red like evil
red like fire
red, red, red
a shade of liars
red like passion
red like sex
red like the wound
marking your neck
red like roses
red like scabs
red is the knife
that stabs, stabs, stabs.
Batia is a writer of many things, poetry being her favourite. Her themes delve into the messiness of the human condition which is reflected through her unstructured but rhythmic style.