I watch a grapefruit tree from my window. Dream about breathing. It reminds you. Sometimes it is a tree because it shows man. The patience and pain of staying growing.
I watch a grapefruit tree from my window. Dream about breathing. It reminds you. Sometimes it is a tree because it shows man. The patience and pain of staying growing. Do you remember that night? The day would break and we would talk about separation. Grapefruit juices that you drink as much as your unhappiness on cold winter days. Happiness hidden in that bitter water and also.
They say sleep is man's most open wound. The most despised places. And sometimes the life of the heart is hidden from us. I watched you sleep overnight. It was the trees that longed for home, curling up, and a bitter pink water swirling through it. You woke up. You would have arrived home after three dreams. Your mother's hands would run through her hair. Your eyes would ring in love again. You woke up. You were a grapefruit tree in bitter juice.
Dear Deniz, now close our eyes. Let's be the star of the night that starts inside us. In this letter, I am sending our best memory to your dream. Our hair is like jasmine that will go into spring in sleep. And finally one morning. Grapefruit orchards will welcome us. We will open the braids on our hair and we will run and hug our trees.