Dusty Red (A Portrait of Love)

I dance
in
dusty red
rain
smelling
like cinnamon
as it
drifts down
my cheek
kissing my lips
and eating
my soul.

Fear me.

My name
is Love.

*

EDIT: Changed the title and after much thought, added a little poem to fit the image.

It's kind of a self-portrait, but it's really up to interpretation. Lots of venting on this one. Finished tonight, on a certain hell-raising holiday that only comes up once a year. Halloween rules, ne?

So does my skill, baby. I'm severely happy for this one. Drooling is adored, but crits are drooled upon.