169

This is me,
In a photograph,
The same number of
Senses as you have,
Look at me
With your eyes,
Touch me
& hear me
do not use
your heart yet

this is me again
she tells you
philanderer
lying bastard
unfaithful
you will listen
and you too will speak
about me
touch, retouch,
view, review,
impressions of me
beyond the photograph
what you believe
from what I am
how you perceive
some slides
of me
presented to you

this is me
this is not me
there will be
doubts

and I will die
laughing in
my forest dream
with your dwarfs

but soon
I will stop
What am
I and what I am
Not, what is
True from
What is fake
Finally when
I find
What true
Love is and
What it can
Really do

With my own
Dwarfs now
In my own
Dreams in
My own time

Even without
Your wishes.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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