The Poem In A Trance

we are bored, we are like nails
we may forgive ourselves and be silent snails
eking our way out through our own fluids
we somehow fall short of the words
and in our bed we look away like strangers
i thought we can make a poem together
the one about love and
freedom
what we have instead are black birds pecking
on our wooden windows
red ants in a parade of their pheromones
looking for an empire beneath our dreams

we are lost when we finally covered our faces
with the blanket
and when you finally switched off the light
on our common headboard.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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