I am my body
and my body is sad and tired.
I'm going to sleep for a week, a month,
a year, so be silent. That when I open my eyes
children are grown and the universe smiles.
I want to stop stepping on the bare feet of the cold.
Let me have all the heat, the sheets, the blankets,
papers and memories. Close all the doors
so that my loneliness does not leave.
I want to sleep for a month, a year, just sleep.
And if I sleep talk, do not pay attention.
I want you to pretend that I am buried until the day
of the Resurrection.
I want to sleep until next year, nothing more.