Untitled 5

upon itself the thought
reflects
upon a thought

like an image in a mirror
my face looks upon
itself and my hands touch
my hands

upon itself the self
breathes and catches life
to itself

there is life and there is motion
there is this emptiness
that looks upon a sky
down upon itself

like a cup still dreaming
of the rain

there is this air that moves
in space
like an infusion of breath
upon your mouth

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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