Sun’s absence

Outside, the light of dawn is raising
still early
it can’t break the earliest darkness
while you sleep with confidence
you aren’t an ephemeral romance,
instead, you are my little son sleeping

Each minute, sun’s rays get wide over our heads
rushing human beings into life and necessities
something strange that is called Love remains patient
isn’t rushing nothing
It’s like you, my son, my little sun, totally unaware of malignity.

More than you, I prefer the tough sun’s presence
the rain sonority altogether with its records upon cement surfaces that make us feel sick when we are too exposed,
all of they aren’t enough to suppress our shared summer.