I laid dead and watched the warm winged rose of her breath soundlessly touch my distant heart. A stranger mad as angels. And by the soft palms of the raging sun I shall hold her And suffer without fear her dream.  

 

The mystique of her face tangled in my eyes and I saw the dawn in a basket of flowering life in a long walk.   

 

Am I deluded by Heaven and the vision of tears?  

 

She seems possessed by the narrow light of oceans yet lives in spring time clouds.  

 

She may disappear in my lonely sleep.  

 

And if she does I shall close my eyes and envision a dead starry night dressed in Jupiters breath. 

 

I think, If I touched her I may fall apart and crumble into a beautiful dream.