Time Does Not Sleep This Time. The Window Does Not Close Its Eye Poem by RIC BASTASA

time does not sleep this time.
the window does not close its eye
even if the sky turns gray warning us
of the rain,
the floor spreads a beautiful silence
waiting for some shoes to come.
the curtains the other day shed off all dust
promising to be light and give that ambiance
of an accommodating hostess
ready to serve a listening mode.
i have given rest to my tongue.
my mouth naive this time.
i look like pouting lips.

my wish to a sleepless night is too simple.
talk to me.