I’m not sure if it was a dream, I felt you so close. Sometimes, I’m just a little girl curled against your chest.
Sometimes, still, I’m afraid to open my eyes and not find you, I know you take care of me.
I like making love to you in the shadows, seeing you in the words.
I often touch the flowers, imagining your skin, just before they wither away.
That’s why I prefer the nights: if I don’t see you, it’s not your fault nor mine.
It’s just that we prefer not to turn on the lights yet.
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