I Am Touched And Will Not Be Able To Sleep Poem by RIC BASTASA

he touched her
thru the fingers
of his poem
about the deep
night and the
sleepless one
a true story about
him and her

writing, deep,
deep into the night,
about sleeplessness,

why?

did he not tell her once
that he never sleeps?
did she not believe him?
did he not tell her
that his poems come
in the depths of darkness
from the dark recesses of
his dimming soul?

at a time when twilights
have not even sprouted
yet?

that his deep thoughts
come like some strangers
capricious and whimsical
and on shorter notice
leave without goodbyes?

now, the cycle grips him
again, he writes unceasingly
like he is being chased by
his own ghosts,

like he is one cat
disturbed by the shadow
of his own rebelling tail,

he shall write,
and if she too
is not sleeping at all,
tonight
then she must write,
like him as if both of
them are twins
in thoughts,

and if there is nothing to
be written, why not read
and tell him what he is
blindly writing?

perhaps,
he will soon understand
his very own tragedies
perhaps she can figure
out the answers in his
written works


she must touch him,
like her brother or even
like her lover
and even kiss him

and he will sleep,
perhaps, soundly, tamed
by the softness of her love
perhaps, the answer to
all his questions.