I lay upon a bed of clouds and an angel comes to me,
He whispers sweet stories of how it would be.
He visits my dreams every solitary night,
But when I awake he has taken to flight.
He tells me he's sorry he had to go away,
And that he's really still with me every night and day.
I still feel the warmth of his hands and I can smell the Tres Flores of his hair,
I feel him holding me, along with the strength of his stare.
Again, I cry myself to sleep, longing the sight of his sweet face,
In my slumber, he holds my hands but when I awake, he's gone without a trace. I hear his cries of how much he still does care,
But I open my eyes and he's not really there.