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Crimson and Blue
by Hope O'Neill

Because you ask for blue
    I lose my head

Because you ask for blue
    I think of red

Red as the wedding dresses
    of Japan

Red as the blood of martyrs
    on the sand

Red as these canna planted
    in a row

Red as the lips of children
    in the snow

Red as the sunset
    on a summer cruise

Red as this address book
    I must not lose

Red as a fleeting promise
    to be true

Red as the embers
    when it all went blue


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