S13 Poem by RIC BASTASA

one thing with thought is that it is fluid.
do you like them to be stones? the sculptors are
ready with their hammers.
one thing with flexibility is that something always
wants to remain open, a door for instance
sometimes to wait for the beloved it is never locked
till midnight
or that window that misses the moon
it never closes till twilight
for the love of light and cool air
some have to be apertures and orifices
my mouth is open for love my arms are unclosed circles
my heart grasps for air something in it is still open
in fact, as you have seen it,
in its unclosed state, it is still bleeding
my mind is open functioning as a parachute of my ambitions
my body does not actually mind what happens next
trusting in words, in another glass of red wine,
cherries for the tongue
the last one for the road, who knows?