I dreamed of you at the night I arrived on the heart of my forest. It was a sweet, soft surprise, for my days have been hard. You, with the green eyes. I think that, from all my little forbidden illusions, you're the only that I kept. Not that I care so much about you, or that I care less. I am a moon child inside of a woman, who could blame me for desiring a man with a child in his eyes? I have knew so very few of you - you're so rare, you see. I guess this is why you came like a gift to me, in a dream.
It was a dream about innocence, sunlight, beauty. And I can still feel it as if you were here, as if it happened this morning. I remember all the sensations. I lost memory of all the words. Your fingers across my skin. Shaven beard starting to grow on soft male chin. All the little lines that compose your face. The sun lighting oblique like it is at 4 p.m., inside your eyes. I still have fresh the smell of your hair on my lap and my hands while I caressed it, as I used to do tenderly with my male friends until life scared innocence away from me. Even now I can feel the light weight of your head on my thighs and the freshness of your hair against my chest. Your perfume, your skin, hair, warmth, I have bathed myself in you. Strange enough, for only once was I near enough to know the smell of your body and now I could know you with my eyes closed between hundreds of people, open air, in the middle of street. I guess I'm writing this just to keep it in mind, and remember of a sweet dream in the hard times soon to be. I would never confess that I have dreamt of you, and such a foolish dream, for what use there is to see you laughing at my ingenuity? But it was good. A sunlight in the middle of a storm. In the moment I prepare to be a more responsible woman I discover a child thirsting for tenderness inside of me. At least one night it knew a touch of satiety.
