My fingers start typing, the words passed through my mind without notice, confuse fatigue with the search for what you do not come to mind. As flashes made
syllables and letters, move swirling,
not stop turning for wanting to achieve a gap where to stop.
eyes begin to close in slowly and by seconds,
was almost lost in that space we call you sleep,
the body, almost motionless,
just feel well for that feeling. They return
converted syllables in words,
and not let the rest is total,
nothing can disturb this moment, that somehow
,
is another way of resting awake.
But now, with your permission, I go to sleep
,
I lose in that space
oneself,
without it, no one could live awake. Rest
friends and sweet dreams,
Besitos, Ross.
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