A White Fragile Butterfly...... Poem by RIC BASTASA

we've been writing and writing
and writing

not for once have we seen each other
yet

i do not wish too somehow
perhaps we are meant to be just like this

near and yet so far
real and surreal at the same time

perhaps we are better as souls
better as air rather than rocks or islands or bones

i cannot say i love you for that would be
too shallow a conclusion based on the emptiness of sands

we are into this anonymity and i will tell you
how i feel

i feel like a white fragile tiny butterfly
fluttering from one flower to another and still undecided

whether to hover finally to a red petal of that
rose

there is simply no flower for me
the air claims me as its property, and my nectar

is emptiness, my proboscis is guile
my feet nowhere to land.