The Hands Of Whom We Love Poem by RIC BASTASA

what i have been writing is simply
the product of
a big distraction

it is like the blind
writing about light

i hear it and i know it
but i cannot clearly see it
and hence
i have never fully understood it


if i understood it
i shall not bother writing about it

this doubt shall make me live to write for more
i have it in my tongue but it slips the moment i want to utter it

behind me are scenes of my rumored true being
i set it aside for a while to describe it in words

but words are too shallow
i cannot bury my feet on them

and so the same things happen
night after night

sleepless after sleepless hands
groping for a dark and elusive fish in space


i submerge into unfathomable madness
do not get me wrong i am sane as the brightest star tonight

but just like it
there is no intimacy
for clarity

there is only beauty at a distance
like the way we wish to hold the hands of whom we love

we long that much but
we do not die.....