Everyday before dusk turns to dawn,
I read a couple of poems in my bed time,
I also write a couple of poems before I close my eyes,
and I arrived to a possible conclusion that...

It is the silence of the night:
the muse that speaks in lullabies,
and seduces me to write,
even when the contents of the poems have nothing to do with my life.
I feel posses. In a trance.
As if am dancing in a dream
where words are the waltz:
the music that moves me into his arms.
that makes me gaze into his eyes.
as if we were in a ballroom.
Dressed in metaphors.
Highlighted by the moon.
Gyrating with our thoughts.
Having the night of our lives,

just dancing him and I
Just dancing our way out

into the world where poetry is alive.

2015