VISION

Was it perhaps illusion,
Framed in the deep mirror of desire,
Or was it in life, simply and divinely
That I saw you watching over me in my sleep the other night?

In my chamber enlarged by solitude and fear
Silent you appeared by my side
Like a giant mushroom, alive and dead,
Springing from the corners of the night,
Humid with silence,
And greased with shadow and solitude.

You leaned over me, supremely,
As over the crystal cup of a lake
Upon the fiery shroud of the desert;
You leaned over me, as someone sick
Of life does over the infallible opiates
And over the stone bandages of death.
You leaned over me as the believer
Over the heavenly sacrament of the host…
—A drop of snow with the taste of stars
That feeds the lilies of the flesh,
A spark of God that shatters the spirits—.
You leaned over me as the great willow
Of melancholy
Over the deep waters of silence;
You leaned over me as the
Marble tower of pride,
Undermined by a monster of sadness,
Over the solemn sister of its shadow …
You leaned over me as if
My body were the initial letter of your destiny
On the obscure page of my bed;