purpurine red

I approach red paintings from the sky, where meaning is most urgent. 

It's just a little red, and it flows slowly. 

From behind the reds, you can see a little scarlet poppy. Possibly even a river of blood trickling down her neck, removing her from herself for a fate of pain and suffering among others. 

There is nothing more to it than blood dancing around possible meanings. 

There is no escape from Nothingness.