You sleep in the darkness,
You with the breast I love
You that have the gift of sleeping
Through my noisy nights of poetry.
I have never taken other women into my thoughts
Since I met you and I am still guardian of your sleeping
Like a mountain where my house is planted,
Like a rock on which my temple stands,
Like a great dictionary holding every word,
Even some I have never spoken.
You breath and I protect you.
The pages of your dreams are refilled
By the winds of my writing.
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