Reflection 0.L Poem by RIC BASTASA

we live in this same house it is big
and the living room is having three sofas
and the stairs are narrow
like a single bamboo
it is designed in such a way that departure is nil
that we must get inside and never bother thinking about getting out

we know leaving is extremely painful even if there is a promise that someday
wounds can heal and we take pride that we have forgotten
but leaving is a reality it is flood a deluge
and we are invaded with water and we drown
that is how we feel when we speak about stairs and roads

you know i write this because i remember
you see how smooth is my skin and there is no sign that there was once a wound here

it is only you who knows where it is but i will not ask you anymore for details
we speak about something else about the boat the wend sliding smoothly under the bridge and the man that sang you a song when you pass overhead like a bird flying away