Without words

Blossom as the first flower in the springtime. Pink as cheeks blushes. Shyness hiding the flame. Flames that brights red deep within. Longing for touch. The heat that burns the soul. Smiling at light raining over the clouds underneath the divine. Violet darken when secrets remains for oneself. Alone smiles for knowing the details of gray nuance. Movement of slow motion in harmony with equilibrium of eternity. Forever lasting the flames. Orange goes to blood red of wanting. Stops. Pauses. Eyes searching. Of what attracts the third.