Unraveling My Poem Unraveling My Life Poem by RIC BASTASA

you think you know me
every inch every color
since you have read
every poem i have written

you equate what i am
with what i have written

and your equation goes
through and through the lines
of logic like a telephone
pole connecting two islands

every sigh is learned
from every syllable of my lines
every yawn is discerned
from every sleepy letter that you
meet and see

are there no strangers there
that you meet? did you not
care to ask for his name?
are there no oceans there?
if there are, there must
be some oceanfloors
some sinks sinking
some whales occupying
so much space for your
kind understanding and
you may find yourself
hard of breathing, like a
diver whose oxygen tank
is leaking. You don't die
with me. You don't like my
sickness. You don't like to
get this infection beyond
my own solitude.

you unravel a poem you
discover that i have become
more covered. A voice tells
me, i am not my poems, i am
more than them. I am not just
a syllable, a word, a line.

I am more than what you have
tried to swallow inside your mouth.

i am blood and i am flowing.
you dip your finger once and
taste a dropp of my blood and
then in a second, i am no longer
there. I am a flowing blood and
what you have are stains, yes,

only stains turning into scars.