Simple Joys Poem by RIC BASTASA

I go near you and the skin in your arm
Just an inch away is too warm for me

I get hot; you do not know it.

We talk and talk
I am giving instructions on some words
For you to transcribe

You look at your notes as you scribble
Your pen busily
I am looking at your hair so black so
Silky and must be so soft to touch

I get hot; you do not know it.

Then I stop talking and you look at me
Again saying, is there anything more sir?
I look at you & you look at me

It was enough mutuality that I seek
Just a simple short gaze
From you this morning
A meter apart

I get hot; you do not know

All these simple joys you are giving me
We are already bound
To our respective chains

We are inside our
Respective prisons

I always get hot seeing you
Near you but it is better this way

And you will never know about me
I get hot always alone

It is you always in my imagination.