The Red Number

The numbers are red
Like passion
Like lust
Like flesh inflamed with desire

The numbers are red
Like hatred
Like grief
Like a molten spear piercing my chest

The numbers are red
Like Rage
Like a divine missive
Whose scarlet words mandate what I must be

When they command it
I'm a god
A ruby
A rose
A bloom of endless power and brightness and bounty
A rising violet light who heralds the dawn

And when they command it
I'm a waste
A garnet
A rotted cherry
A used-up piece of gum abandoned to a dingy bus seat
A pool of fuchsia vomit; an odor of decay

The numbers are red
Like war
Like vengeance
Like indignity

Like me