A Stare

a stare is like a stair
it has steps
and there are feet
walking,
and leaving,

you stare at me,
and i see stairs, where you walk
and climb and stop at the middle
and then take the stairs layer by layer

that is what you like to do, to look at me
as though i am this room where you build the stairs
and you want to go inside my room and lock me up

and take all of me with your tongue and hands and
mouth. You mouth me. And i receive the life you have.

and then your stare subsides. the stair is gone.
the room vanishes. I am free. And you are inside me

your stare has become the memory lingering inside me.
i become a bird and you are inside my wings.
Your stairs become my feathers. Your stare
becomes my eyes.

in love, we make the stairs leading to a house.
and there we feast, and live and sleep.

yes, there are wings and windows.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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