I will be back early,
I won't let them to get dry,
your night
or the ficus at the entrance.
I will provide light to the fish
which navigate the house,
and in your womb
there will be no sea swell.

I will be back early,
put on my pyjama.
I know,
I give you so little.
But even if the press
forgets about us today,
tomorrow a dove
will land on your shoulders.

I will be back early,
breath calmly.
When the demons
heal your wounds
there will be no need to search for
light or aspirins.
I will be there.
And if you wake up
before the sun rises
and something tangles up in your chest,
that will be me.

There will be no delays.
There will be no more howls
or knives
crawling on the streets.
It will be us
talking at dawn
about this storm scent.
It will be me who takes off your shoes.

I will be back early.
Today I will prepare dinner.
Don't be afraid,
the night is coming to an end.
And in the distance, rain
and unicorns neighing,
passion flowers blossoming
will welcome us.

I will be back early.
I will bring you dawn
and, for your back,
butterfly dust.
If stars float
today under your clothes,
I will be there.
And if you wake up
before the sun rises
and something tangles up in your chest,
that will be me.