while my angel dreams

she unleashes, fragrant and warm
breeze from out
of her rose petal
lips.

almost, i can taste her
breeze,
so softly but like
little hurricanes
they storm about my mouth and down
my throat as if they so desire
to choke my own
breath out
of me.

my eyes close and they open
again.

her face a picture of
calmness as she sleeps,
her skin so smooth and so tender,
her lips the rose petal tomb
in where the storm rests for
a few
hours;

only to rock my soul again soon,
only to lock my own lips
again soon,
in her kiss:
a tempest out of her heavenly
rose petal
lips.

2000.jun.30