Your slept eyes at that corner of town are awake. Night screams it’s silence perfumed to breeze of your remembrance. Here I am, thinking about you. Slept with your remembrance. And you feel me well that think about me calmly, even better than moonlight. Even better that sunshine. When sun rises, you’re back and perfume of your thought is balm for the silence rooms of sleepers. And I feel you well. You, an elixir of all the sad hearts. You, alive heart for the tired eyes. And you, nice perfume of awakening. I will be until your being.