Something That Slips Away Poem by RIC BASTASA

...because i allow it,
because of the way i keep my hands,
my fingers are falling apart,
and to keep my hands
intact, as i try too,
as i compose myself
as i reinvent my face through your
eyes,
and then, something slips away,
it hurts,
but i know it will not last long,
otherwise,
i will not be true to myself, i will be dead.
and i can't allow it,
so here i am, as usual, too normal
like the sun that shines
every morning
because everyone expects it to happen.

don't know if i feel my own
heat. don't care really. it is not about myself.
anymore. it is about the sun
and the day that it is duty bound to give
to the grasses
and to the rooftops.