I blink a couple of times before waking up to ask myself if this is really happening. Blinking is the Morse code for those who cannot discern reality from dreams. Breathing in brings me courage to turn around and find out… and then I turn back to my initial position.
Dubious about what I have just seen was for real, I repeat to myself uncountable times: yes, there she is. This is not just another gloomy November morning, I said to my inners. She, Carmelita, is here next to me, in complete nakedness, exuding calmness.
I imagine the sea in her breathing. I put my head over her belly and close my eyes. In the darkness I can see myself holding a sea shell. My nose and lips can taste the salty breeze coming from her north.
A salty breeze holds your hairs in the air. Golden lighting rubbing up your face. Clouds here and there on a stellar canvas. Millions of millions of grains stick on your skin. And then there she is in a serene forward and backwards. Using magical signings of peace and well-being.
Carmelita is exhausted, physically and emotionally. Sleeping is the source of her eternal beauty. There is something special around her when she is in deep sleep. You can feel how her silence gets transmuted into fresh water. And her body becomes the Full Moon reflected on that water.