you made me think of this last night,

before things got ugly... your kisses couldn't decide between miso & vanilla how could I ever get enough your fingertips were rose petals they could not ever be too rough I want to come to you with the force of a hurricane and the passion of a thunderstorm but I come to you like the lightest rain only whispering you take my breath away I want to write you a book of songs -(6-9-03)