The Guilt Poem by RIC BASTASA

i know how it feels,
for i also know how to junk someone like a
hot potato,
i know how it feels to reject a certain value
and i know how to come back at it
without its knowing,
i begin to be interested at it
familiarize myself with its pungency
and memorize its color
i kiss its traces and hug
the old unwashed shirt hanging
inside the drawer
i also know how to leave
close the door and
tell myself, i will not come back to this place anymore.