At The Train Station In Rotunda... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i stop for a while here
this corner where you too stopped
i am asking
if we have the same reason for
stopping here
this place where there is nothing to see
or touch
where you smoke a lot and pollute
my vision of the world
where death seems to be the only reason for living
i am taking this quiet stance
merely looking and scrutinizing
listening
passive like a common wall between us
i do not like to move
i may create that ripples in the air
and it will give you a justification to harm me
i lean against this wall
shifting the weight of my mind to the bricks
and you look down

there is this distance that we feel
and you like it
i can hear that
even if you do not utter that
i live in another world
and you have created your own
different scents and colors
you want that this must not be understood
in the same manner
that i want it

we like to part ways now
not friends not foes
plain strangers again without names
no judgments

by this time you consumed all the cigarettes
and the smoke has conspired with the air

everything is clear now
the sound of the train is getting near like an ambulance
we are finally rescued from this
separation this
strangeness
innate in human existence

this inability to connect and be a part of someone
this appreciation of freedom
that only preaches alienation
and segregation

in this parting there is no goodbye
you never know me and i never know you
we are always
not interested