Morning dreams

    A bright morning.A huge ball of fire makes its slow rise trough the concrete buildings,its searing rays enter the room trough an open window.It has been a warm night.

    A beautifull face of bronze-like texture, an angelic face lies next to me...a sleeping head.Polished.I see the pulse strugling greedily on the neck veins pumping vital color to the dreams.The eyelids moving almost imperceptively over the eyes, the nostrils moving as the air is being cleansed by the lungs,the hair embracing the pillow-silk over feathers.Everything about the head somehow seems to blend perfectly into something only Michelangelo could draw, but somehow alive.I have a refreshing image of her lips shyly turn upwards into a smile.

    I carefully lay my lips against her forehead, my tastes flooded by a somewhat bittersweet aroma.Then i hug her, and we dream together of rainclouds.