When you sleep,
shortly after the foam,
next to my heart, embraced,
absent like the sound
of our silent words.
It is the yours perhaps, or it is mine,
that clear heartbeat that speaks,
when you sleep.
When you sleep,
far from the weightless origin,
with my arm sewn to your back,
I have no reason to look at you,
I don't need my eyes.
You see me with your fulfilled belly,
I see you through ©s of this calm,
when you sleep.
When you sleep,
it is not your naked body that I embrace
nor the heat of rest that flows,
I hold the horizons
of the dream that passes through you.
And clinging to that submissive dream,
I wake up and there is no one in my bed,
when you sleep.

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