In Sleep.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

this is all about
the particulars, the details,
something too personal,
in such a way, that if you
read it, you may understand,
but it does not point to that
specific feeling, but could be
someone else's,
a shark is nothing but
an oil,
a scratch of scribbles,
could be your
masterpiece, which at any
time, could be valued by
someone else, relating to a
traumatic experience,
so, after all is said and
done, what you write is
actually about you, and for
saving yourself, you will
declare, it is all about the
other, someone you have met
and felt, and who never stays,
but leaves you for something
else, and you go back to the
friendship of that lamp shade
beside you in bed,
and tell yourself, "oh, my
i miss myself", i miss this bed,
this life, and i hope
i can dream all these
in sleep.