Unperfect Lips
you can look for me in the wrinkles of the skin
the lines of the forehead
in the dimples around the lip
in the ripples of the eyes
in sore muscles
in the hands wilted by weariness
in the faded polish
in the smeared lipstick
hearing a guitar out of tune at distance
crying about a missed dream
you will find me there
in the everyday's imperfections
that life is perfectible
but that without the wrinkles is as if I had not experienced the highs and the lows
that without the ripples of the eyes is as if I had never seen the stars trembling
that without the smears of the lipstick
you would forget my lips
perfectible alone
now
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