Again, Ars Poetica... Poem by RIC BASTASA

all the while i adore you,
day and night, dawn and dusk, i have you,
at the worst, i side with you,
ars poetica, an illusion of love and
grandeur, a struggle for name and fame,

always, you ask, "what is your name? "
or "do you have a name? " and i write my name
in your body, but you are a mist, a body of water,
a waterfall, and my name is lost, and i am lost
in you,

" i have my rules", my house is here, and
"are you following? " you must sing my name,
she demands, you must chant me,
you must make me holy, you must remove
your slippers when you enter my door,

inside the room you must undress and face me naked,
let me see your body, let me touch your soul,
ars poetica again, too demanding and sometimes
too demeaning, but most of the times,

yes, always beautiful and magical, but
had always been, too forgetful.

yes, too forgetful, inside her house,
i have no seat, no place, no Persian pillow.

inside her heart is filled with love,
but she has none for me.