She
wore red lipstick like a smudge on a canvas. She wasn't ordinary, she was something to stare at. Something to marvel in. He got lost in her eyes, it was a Tuesday when they met, a Tuesday filled with smudged red lipstick and mascara wearing deep blue eyes. It got to the point where he couldn't find himself. He was engulfed in this girl, the one who wore red lipstick, talked about the stars and walked around the streets barefoot. He was in love. Her smile, that danced across her lips every time he would say her name, that is what made his love worth it. The way she carried herself from the living room couch to the bedroom, with purpose and stride. She wasn't a mistake. She was perfectly made, perfectly tied in a bow of happiness. How can you excuse a love like that? A love so much on fire that people across the isle in the supermarket could see it radiating with heat. Seeing her red lipstick meet his cheek like it was meant to land there proved that love was very much real and very much alive. She loved him like it was the only job she had, a job she took on with pride and purpose. Love from the lipstick wearing girl wasn't forced, wasn't made up, and flowed out of her heart like it was easy.
Can red lipstick do all that?
She finds herself wearing it more, just in case its the last sealing testament of their love.
oh what we will do to keep certain feelings alive.
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