Clothed in yellow, mellow like the evening sun she was the standard of grace and beauty. Her red lips were calling out for salvation from the black hole of damnation she had been cast into. White was supposed to be angelic but it turned her innards green with revulsion.
He was draped, almost each day in a white cotton kaftan preaching about orange flames that would burn the unrighteous to ash. Yet each night, he was the blue-eyed monster that sneaked into her room and stained her pink sheets. He was the nightmare she wished to end for good.

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