For Linda Poem by RIC BASTASA

the photograph of
a woman could be you
and afraid of sanctions from
this rigid
moralistic society you hide
in the
shadow of a silhouette
you become a dark
black figure leaning on the
frame of a door
against the light of the day
your breasts are firm
your nipples are not afraid
anymore
caressed by the fingers of
the wind from
the window from the sea
your feet tiptoe on the
floor
but your arms and hands
are hiding