then red was a weakness to me

your cherry lips and the roses
you used to spill in the bath tub
on every Sunday late afternoon

it was raining and sunset prevailing
was spontaneously combusting the walls
of our yet to be deserted home

I bought a hammock for you
before you left for that funny-weird dream
you jumped in and swing all day long like a child

your red dress - one last autumn leaf
I thought would keep me warm through the winter
but you never came back

I'm living some place other than you know
this house this bed and my entire life
are dry and white

they seem to wait as well like pages of a still
unwritten book on our different lives
just to be cut

now red is my longing to reach you