i leave my bed unmade

i leave my bed unmade
every time i enter the room, someone different is making it
someone who stays for a while
sharing a word
or just a gaze
worth a million discourses
we speak the language of dreams
they come from distant days
wearing clothes weaved with tears
of abandonment and fear
they enter with the breeze of summer days
of a world that doesn't exist
the leftovers of dreamless nights
companions of fearless times
ghosts of long-gone days
they don't stay long (i wonder why)
but after all
they never leave