I should have known — her ideal car color was red, she said. Red — denoting sensuality, violence. Blood and anger. Power, passion & war.
And I can see her in that car, too. Probably a sports car. A Lamborghini — the one where the two doors open at a predatory slant, like the wings of a vulture, en route to pounce.
But she came off as meek, sweet, compassionate. Almost childlike. Despite her explosive physical beauty. Despite the fact that her laugh was breathy, her voice frequently slurred. Like she was in the middle of sex.
And she had that glow, too. In fact, her cheeks swelled with so much blood & heat when she smiled that sometimes it would seem like the thermostat moved up a few ticks.
In my consciousness, red is akin to Venus (aka Aphrodite), the goddess of almost anything carnal.
- Venus, the goddess for whom a wine festival — Vinalia Urbana — was held annually on the 23rd of April, her signature month — its linguistic origin linked to the name Aphrodite.
- Venus, the one who fought over the mortal Adonis with the goddess Proserpina until Zeus intervened, decreeing that the pair spend a third of the year apiece with their object of affection, leaving him free to choose where he’d spend the remaining third.
In the end, Adonis was exclusive with Venus, until he was killed by a wild bore.