I Can Be My Own Galaxy

closed door.

everything not close,
open fingers.

closer hues,
like purple to red and violet,

they are closely entwined, but not
closed,

they may be close enough
to resemble the kind of warmth
and ambiance found within
the nearness of their hues,

but they know, on closer
scrutiny, their differences,

distinct as sand to sun,
separable as clouds
to rain,

and you to me,
i am warm as red,
you are pink as desire,

we blend, i am fire and
you are this cinder.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!