In His Mind Poem by RIC BASTASA

he knows now why he
goes beyond the decency
of love, those clean hands
touching, acceptable by
those who want to be
with all of the kind people here,
he looks back in time
when the moss was not in the
stones yet on the river
love was not there

there were no traces of its
steps
there was no trace of a cat
or bird
there were no words for no one

nothing speaks about affection
and acceptance
he once kissed love
and love shuts out saying it is over

there is no design
no architecture for a comfortable dwelling
he gets away from this dream
goes inside a room and goes out of the door
walks on the street that is dark and narrow

there are people without names
there half-naked and ready
to embrace whatever he brings

now he is at home
and there is no more regret
no comparison for what ought to
be that merely gives
him pain

beyond love of course
is the colorful and scented
lust that gives him temporary
relief from twisted faces
and bodies that desired and loved so well
in his mind
that he never once touched
ever because it cannot be embraced
by the arms of possibility
without him being burned.