Don’t wake me up

On the sands of the Caribbean, I bury my hand, I bury my soul.
Those yellow particles, which circle me, do shine and irradiate my skin,
and how warm and comfortable they are.
They fire, they scream sleeping songs and I attempt to dream, I attempt to rest.

My deep breath makes the impression of departure.
My closed eyes recall the fall of the night.
For some moments I lose the felling of existence,
as I am carried into the mysterious dreamland.

I suddenly stop and through my hand I encounter a fluid ascending.
I yell as it starts penetrating me, infiltrating my skin.
My muscles expand and I gain control, I become the maestro of the universe.

At the backstage I observe a clarity…
What is it I wonder…
Her light sure covers light years of space,
but a star she does not look to resemble.

I swim through nothing, through everything,
since nothing is everything in this dimension.
I dream of reaching you, touching you.
I meditate a reason someone would let you go.

You are so small, I laugh!
My face crinkled when this gem I caught.
It has the youth of me, the beauty of the universe.
Since that moment I hold you closely, near every verse.

  • Frederico Vicente