In the middle of the night you wake up and guess my sleeping face. You rest your mouth on my forehead, you leave, carelessly, your hand on my chest, until our heartbeats match.
In the middle of the night, hostile and dark, you guard me, shuddering with every movement I make, until, feminine and helpless, you are left dreaming like a tired angel.
In the morning I have a joy that lives in me all day, that assists me all day, without knowing what it is due to, why it is born.
