Sem fazer sentido

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Agora o nome dele aparece em lilás na tela do meu computador. Vibra lilás intenso nos meus olhos verde-mate. Passo da cor ao material, noutra dimensão, num vão meu, que nem existe. Mármore. A pedra, lisa, perda. Beija meus lábios em distante, em sentidos- novos. Em redes-cobertas. Beija meus olhos para me reencontrar, talvez eu ainda esteja lá. Aponto para o sul, cantarolo um trecho de Vuelvo al Sur e imagino nossa intimidade secreta, nossos passos de tango em uma tangueria em Pompéia.

Vivo de imaginação e aqui fora: ar.

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