"Red" a poem by Rui M.
Red Red is my blood, platelets, as Autumn's leaves, as my dreams, hopes, from a breathing person, who dies, lives, writes, fails, rewrites. Red is a blue's opposite: the blue's heat. Is the irrigation of wings' veins, I ought to have, a sky would be, dawn's color, the flame of life, a desire of a peaceful heart, that bombs red through time. I am Red, even though no eye can see it; a dream is here, nobody can see it: as my blood as my end. And, maybe there's no end only stars. And stars are a pipe dream of dreams. Enjoy.