When I sleep every night, what am I called or not called? And when I wake, who am I if I was not I while I slept?

It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.

The best poet is the man who delivers our daily bread: the local baker.

my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping but I shall go on living.

I'm not me but living matter fermenting and forming its own shapes in the fruitfulness of every day.

The birds of night peck at the first stars that flash like my soul when I love you.

When I sleep every night, what am I called or not called? And when I wake, who am I if I was not I while I slept?