Treasure Island

RIC S. BASTASA


in resisting


in resisting you
your breaths so near my nostrils
your hands
warming my hands
your hair blown by this
scented air
from your eyes
silently too
gazing
sizing what i may give you

i gently
lift your hands
away from my hands
shy away from your hair
trying to entwine
some locks of my hair
i waft the scented
air away from
my nostrils
i gaze away
from your gaze

i walk a step farther
away from you
i become a boat
my mind like paddles
sailing away from you

against the current
i begin to feel
that i am a rock
in the middle
of this raging river

Submitted: Wednesday, June 11, 2008

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