The White Woman At Sunset Boulevard - Poem by RIC BASTASA

she was the woman who left me.
She hands me the back of her bones.
she does not bother looking anymore at the past.
she hates me. she detests
every word that i say.
she will not answer my call.
She says i am a liar and had always been lying to her.
The dirt in my arms are terrible, she says, these arms
that used to hold her too tightly that she cannot breathe
are broken branches of the rotten tree.
She walks away towards the dark side of the sunset boulevard, that place unreachable by the night lights. Beyond the hold of my arms, beyond the grasp of my lips.
she already loosened all the screws and bolts of the bicycle
that we used to ride together every afternoon on this sunset boulevard.
all the parts are scattered near the shore of the sea.
The waves reached them and they all get too rusty.
She does not talk to me anymore, this white woman at sunset boulevard.
She walks fast.
She runs.
Her eyes sharp, and flaming with anger against the rage of the dark,
away from the city lights, away from my lies, away from the
warmth of my whisper.
I am her wrath.
I am the source and cause of her anger.
Her pains, her sorrows for years and years when i left her
without leaving any word.
When my name was finally eaten by the waves of the sea in
sunset boulevard. When she drowned.

she left rushing like a storm towards another island.
she destroys houses and
fell the trees.
She goes away just like that, as quickly as suddenly
as a gnashing teeth of the cyclone.
I whispered her name to calm her down.
She hurriedly left.
She did not see that tears too that fell to the sand. They are mine. Salty, fresh tears. Hidden inside my bags for years. Twenty-five years of solitude.
More than that for my loneliness on an unknown island where i was stranded beyond my power. There was not a single boat to take me to her.

She did not
look back. She would not believe me.

But she is right.
My tears are not as salty as the whole sea that she swallowed when she drowned on that very day when i left her.
I have not
given her the reason. I have them ready from the bottom of my heart.

She tells her friends:
She does not want to be duped again. One of me, is enough.She is gone.
I happened to her once in her lifetime. She, is likewise.

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 12, 2008

Poem Edited: Sunday, October 12, 2008

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