Untitled 12 Poem by RIC BASTASA
Untitled 12
mere touch
it passes like a stranger
nothing interesting
on a hot day
the tongue twists
asking for water
the teeth grits
asking for more
tonight what shall i be?
a wolf? you will fear me
i could be the moon
that embraces all of you
i can be the grass
where you sleep and dream
a touch from your body
makes me a tree
a sky, a world, a universe
i become a meteor
living through
an infinite space
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/29/2026 11:56:34 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
