By Elara Arani
If I have red flags, it’s because the white flags my body bore in acquiescence have been dyed in the boiling blood of those to whom I deferred.
My red flags are sanguine, still warm, almost adhesive because blood boiled is thick.
It’s a good dye,
a good marinade,
a good way to cleanse.
Erase all the traces of the veins of those who crushed me under their toes.
Blood like glue.
Life juice dye.
White flags can be made sanguine but sanguine cannot become green.
What is a girl to do?
Embrace the dye.
Consume it so it gives me strength.
Paint my lips black.
Drink away my pain.
Embrace the red because verdant is far and impossible.
This world I’ve created only knows vermillion.
Verdant is for those who want to go on, for those who have yet to succumb to those who might stain them.