Our Loneliness Talks To Us In Images Poem by RIC BASTASA

our loneliness talks to us
and we try to listen with some memories
that refuse to die in the recesses of our minds

our loneliness are like hands that touch
our breasts and backs
giving us the pain, unnecessary pain, those that we could have
met with the shrug of our shoulders and wipe with a short
slash and sleigh of our hands

we talk as we sit on thick blankets on our bed
we gaze at the glass door looking for the sea and the mountains
at the other end of this island

we are not at all mindless, we talk like civilized citizens confronting
loneliness with why's and how's
we drink tea and offer it with some delicacies
sweet to remember but after wards the bitterness sinks in
like silt and sand to the ocean floor

sometimes i get fed up with this drama. i say i quit. i say i am a happy
person and i do not deserve this kind of confrontation.

i open the door and let the noise in. Loud rock music and
lots of arguments about weight and shape

i occupy all space. Airtight. I breathe and then I laugh the hardest.
Like a hippo.