The Love We Had Behind That Door One Sunday Afternoon Poem by RIC BASTASA

the love behind that door
one sunday afternoon when all of them were gone to church
we were silly and hot and
thrilled to the tempest of our flesh
the passions that burn like a wildfire in the camp
we closed the door
with our two bodies in fear
but the heat was even more
tempting we set aside
possibilities in hell
all we thought of was
heaven and the songs of angels

we banged the door together
we were afraid no more of conseqences
we had thrown clothes and underwears
under the chairs
the world and its rules did not matter
we were making a stand of
teen-age love
the supple youth that must rule
the world of unfounded fears

what we remembered most
were the volcanoes
they all erupted and we closed our eyes
and the magma flowed
all the lava moved
all the fiery fires and sounds of
cracking pyroplastics
the sweet explosions in our ears

then we listened afterwards
the mellow songs of our hearts
we take our calm seats we hold our tired hands
and then the sunday door opened again

as though nothing important really happened
we assured ourselves by the mutual silent gazes of our eyes
the scented air came in
and we were refreshed again