In the middle of the night you wake up and find my sleeping face. You lower your mouth to my forehead, you leave, without thinking, your hand on my chest, until our heartbeats become one.
In the middle of the night, hostile and dark, you keep watch over me, trembling with each breath I take, until, tender and defenseless, you drift into sleep like a weary angel.
In the morning I carry a joy within me that sustains the day, that lifts me through the hours, not knowing its source, why it has bloomed.