Cartography of Dreams

Cartography of Dreams

1.

By the time you arrive

I’ll possess night in my hands.

It carries the sleeplessness of the rooftops

in its peak, the distant humidity of the streets

that lack your footsteps.

I wear wings borrowed from tonight,

and retain the warmth of its arms

for when you come to sleep later.

Come: Tonight, we dine on the moon!

2.
Like winter born

on one December afternoon,

I felt the urge to journey

all the way to silence

and listen to a breath of lights.

I dragged a heap of leaves

towards me.

They stopped before I swept them, already waiting for me.

3.

It was leaving memories lying

on the dark waters of sleep.

It was as if your voice came from the side

of my body, or the echo of your smile

inside some other ear,

those clear labyrinths open to voices.

It was the dying perfume of rain,

the distance pending caresses keep,

the smiles that never crossed each other,

and walking barefoot

where the sun won't shine.

It's that I know you won't be there,

and I won’t untie myself

from the bones of your name.