Mask Que Raid

we both know
this game

the masks we wear
the things we do

i hide in the forest of
words
you too behind those
trails and trees of
routine

we have not exhausted
excuses
i am adept at
concocting them

when we make love
it was something else
less than
what we wish for

my mind travels in
labyrinths of
familiarity

i've been there and i
know where i come from and where i am going

inside my mind, this is a straight path
and i am obliged

when i wake up this morning
there will be no changes in the way

all things are put
well, well put and steady

the house shall open same windows
the door maintains same keys and locks

we still are
and shall never part

the sun still shines on the east
(even if we know that it is this place
where we stand that is rotating)

the moon is full tonight
we are ready with the clinks

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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