My words fall asleep,
but my hands are restless.
They are instincts that life itself has
when it can't even think.
I face the sheet of paper,
which is blank waiting for me to express myself.
I keep thinking, nothing comes to my mind.
I think of your face when you smile at me,
I dream of your mouth, I hear you speak to me.
Then it seems that lights are illuminated,
and without me wanting it, words are born.
Because it is in the night when everything comes,
your life kisses me and embraces me too.
The sky lights up and even the stars,
by giving me their brightness, they seem to speak.
