Turns

Dreaming, one shall say, is the felony of lovers

I lived by the book

- Meanwhile the angels lived for you -

And embraced "there theres" as the crack of years left no leftovers

"Fear it not, child", your Eastern voice blessed me

Delivered was the soul of mine in your hands: I was for long a slave of myself

I, now, believe in you, above all

- And so does heaven, I bet my nickels -

Because you're simply a miracle on Earth

Although no heavenly creatures won't ever be able to describe you enough

The phantasm of your glimpse shall shelter itself

In that box you unveiled and together we named it chest,

Even if you fade away, 

Get erased by the new dreams or the ones unborn,

Even if you become dust, 

A bloody teardrop, a God's forsaken crumble, 

They shall never cease to throb in what is sworn.

Behold the miraculous price of the gift you awarded to me: 

Someone I once knew and met again, like a hurry friend passing dripping lather,

That one some call by the name of 'happiness', 

But to call as "you" I shall ever rather.