to dream of him
is to die in sleep
i feel his fumes
as it fills the room
smoke of his cologne
dark circles of his glasses
leaves ashes where he walks
have you seen the man who lives in your dreams
the one who pleases as you fall?
i wade in the thought of tranquility
caress his skin, the rough edges
eyes which speak magic
we became to feel
to dance in the rapids
i lie in sleep
nostalgia becomes me
we wake in the moment
realizing the dream was irony
reflection of his glasses