To Its Loveliness..... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i must, write
you this one,
which i call,

a poem, which
of course, you
cannot read, because
simply
you cannot,

we could have
relied on speech
which you
disregard feeling
that it is
unnecessary because

this thing that
happens need not
be spoken

or be heard or
be seen
as we preferred
finally the secret
of the dark

i, must, write you
this, our poem,
intertwining, one is
the need,
the other is the
giving,

there is no love
here, i know, you know,
there is no love
between us,

we are not
designed for this
we cannot utter
what love
is

just the same
i write you this,
my poem,

it is not about
me, not about you
either,

it is the silence
of understanding,

the time has come
when we do not mention
what we shared

we long for another
for someone else
we are unsatisfied,
i am, insatiable, i turn
my back at you,

you look at the sky
trying to find an angel
i hold your hands


tonight, i sleep
soundly, and you too,

tomorrow, we do other
things,
we do not look at
each other's eyes

for life is more
horrible than love,
a vengeance we give
to its
disparities,

to its unfairness,
to its loveliness...