L6,212 Poem by RIC BASTASA

the net with lovely mesh
catches me breathlessly, i

am breathless in this
capture, and unlike those

who want to be free, i,
have learned to love

this captivity, this mesh,
the hands are ready to

take me out from here,
but i am refusing them, i,

love it here, my heart in
captivity has found meaning

i, am, growing the flowers
of lovely prison in my skin,

i am a captive scented
to the perfume of a affection

who is more willing to
preach that freedom

too, is a dangerous matter,
the choices too many to

behold, to be understood,
the responsibility too huge

thus, killing us slowly, here,
i am freed from duty, i,

am sitting on a sofa, with
nothing in my head but

the state of having nothing
of thinking and doing nothing.