Red

we are dancing around your lips
as the day becomes part of the language
[sketches]:
those remains of the unthinkable.

dance
[says red]:
keep dancing
music is the only certainty,
but words are here
facing your lips
undamaged
after the footsteps.

[red]:
the body and the heat are not like the lips
you must keep on dancing,
fooling the dead
in a naked play
with a hand on the lipstick
and the other
over your brains!!!

Red

everything is so,
and the figure of red,
and the lips in the head
but
[my memory]:
dance the last centuries of red
before the sea
evolves into
a mute tone.