When the day, overcome by its weight, succumbs to the lightness of the night. At the moment when calm reigns, the earth turns cold and darkness bathes everything with its shadow.
Now that my body is lying on this strange bed, I support my rest until the sunlight cleanses all traces of fatigue.
It is when between the wanderings of my mind in search of a restful sleep, your image is present, preventing me from closing my eyes and embarking on the pleasant journey through the free will of the mind.
I feel you so far from me, despite knowing that just by shouting your name at night, its echo would lead my voice to your ears and you would wake up unable to know if my call was real or if it had slipped into your dreams.
Looking out the window I imagine that the moon is a mirror and that I can see you through its skin, protected between the sheets, resting your head on the pillow and with that smile that surely does not disappear even while you sleep.
Will it be tomorrow when I wake up the day in which my anxieties are nourished with the satisfaction of the fulfilled hope, when patient prudence releases its less self-conscious part and decides to cross the line that distinguishes between brave and cowardly?
Now that I begin to rave, I realize that I must already be asleep and that these lines are nothing more than the result of the worries that haunt my head.
This being the case, I do not want more than to wake up, to spend this arid and dry night to be able to feel alive again with the stinging of my heart, because a wounded heart is better than a painless one.
«Everything collapses and it is so easy, all my castles are made of sand,
everything I dream of is so fragile, all I drink is your absence.
And my poor iron heart, I was rusting away with sorrows.
It’s that I’m sleepy and I don’t sleep, this fire that no longer heats up … »
