Desire

watching someone unfold
before you in synchronized numbers
someone undressing
the eyes feasting
something that you cannot hold
because it slips away
a memory
yes, nothing but a view where your hands
are water
your fingers nothing but air
you hear a laughter and then a smile and then just an image
dissolving into space

you are silent again for this
why can't you even touch it?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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