A Red Dress Running Away

A red Dress in the sea longing to be free

To be swept away by the Routine of the day

A red Dress, in the Color of blood

Thrown in the Mud

Thrown against the Rocks

A red Dress as red as a hunted Fox

It's as clever as it's paradox

A red Dress torn

By the World

By the Wind it was worn

And swirled

Once it was free, like the sea

Dancing blurred

Its hard to grab like a moan

even if it's made out of Stone

It's Tender and it's light

It's a satellite

A Lost signal

Caused by the cold

which was trying to get it controlled

It's melting innocent in the Snow

It has the fragile smile of Marilyn Monroe

The red Dress is still looking kind and beautiful, Kind of transmutable

Althrough it's ripped, like an unneseccarry relict

Even if its going to combust to preserve

the good and the carefree and it's lightness and it's trust

It will be renewed in it's grace

Like a true embrace

And it's Looking as red as the devotion of the sky to the capturing eye

As Blue clouds of sorrow

Don't reach that high

A free satellite in the sky surrounding the Image of the Good within the Blind