Untitled - November 3, 2001

Every kiss
is sweeter than all that is -
like the first sun ray
in the morning,
or the last moonbeam
of the night,
each touch
is lighter than before.

Every moment
becomes a story told
over a thousand and one nights;
each day
becomes an endless dream
that feels almost real;
each lifetime
passing in but a blink of the eye.

Carried on the late autumn breezes
are the whispers
of words from far away -
even as
the leaves are swept
in the November winds,
thoughts become words,
and words become real.