I put all the red things I own in one room.
It felt kind of like a gesture, a performance, of how some see “love”.
Like putting all of your eggs in one basket.
What if it were a new saying?
“Now, don’t put all your red things in one room!”
But, I don’t even own that many red things?
And eggs?
I’ve never really liked them.
I mean anything, too contained, makes me nervous.
And that precious shell that guards it from the outside?
I’d rather break it and feel the yoke in my hands.
See the shells fertilizing the ground.