Clueless Still

my wife asks me
why do you remain a stone?

why are you so impenetrable?
my answer is a gaze.

i wait if she insists if she repeats the question
over and over again
perhaps thinking that with repetition
i may become soft as water
and shall soon allow a
moss to grow
a fish to thrive

and then my answer turns into a stare
my eyes burning with fire

is it love? is it this love within me?
is it the one handed to me like a torch in a race?

my mouth is indifferent.
she cries. she says there is a boulder between us.

i kiss her. Inside my mind, a river runs.
you figure out where it is going.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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