Brazilwood

Or summon me as rose, claret, vermilion, lady's blush, lust.

Evoke me as ruddy, matter, Brazilwood, or a coombe.

I need to exist.

For no other colour in two lengths of cloth makes a gentleman, and keeps him that way, and there's nothing I can't improve with a scandal, though I'm happiest reclining on a girl's pretty lips, pitying potential left to rot.