There were flashes of yesterday in your shared laughter and mutual inanities. But the spectre and promises of yesterday still hang over you. For a long moment they were forgotten, blanketed by the light of today. You can delude yourself and say this is how it will always be, a permanent hearken to the past, events happened and forgotten. It is easy to lie to yourself. Soon, the gossamer veils which cover the truth you have hidden from will be shredded. Truth is blinding. In the flashes, your sight becomes a razor that cuts both you and the world. You will bleed, happily letting yourself flow out of yourself. The red provides contrast to a grey world, red tears from the blackness painting life.