Desire. My insides go all cinnamon and crimson and firecracker. I taste paprika in the wind and its symphony plays gingerly and my ears flame because they can’t settle the score. I want to polish your red. Your four-poster red. Your quarantined red. Your desecrating red. Your chain-gang red. Your henna-happy red you did with all your red girlfriends. Your unconditional red. The red you staked out with all the hearts you’ve ever drained and peppered black and Cayenne. I want your red right through me. I want your rust to wrap me. I want your red soul red in your curves and your folds and your red shadows and all the nude moments where you can be red. Red me now. Red me loose. Red me ever. Red me off the table. Red my sclera. Red me with stigmata. Red me with contagion. Red me legion. Drive my pigs off a red cliff into a fount of red and red and red. Through the darkness of future past The magician longs to see. One chance out between two worlds Fire walk with me. —from Twin Peaks Deep Red Red Reds Red Aces Red Cliff Red Corner Red Dawn Red Desert Red Dirt Red Doors Red Dragon Red Dwarf Red Eye Red-Headed Woman Red Hot Romance Red Morning Red Planet Red Sands Red Scorpion Red Sonja Red River Red Rock Red Without Blue Rose Red The Big Red One The Hunt for Red October The Red Room The Red Shoes The Red Violin The Thin Red Line The Woman in Red Blood Simple