I have a lover, every night visit me in my bed. It is as dead as me.
A love like ours, does not require physical contact. Someday we will meet and I know how it is.
It will be a woman who takes lenghty silences and looks lost, like me.
After all, the only thing that separates us is the body. She is talking to me at this moment and I her.
I do not know his name, but I know his face. Enjoy dance without music as much as I do. No precise explanation, nor me.
Despises light, the light that comes from joy. Much as I love the silence of the graves.
