Upheavel Of The Heart

the lighter
softer things occupy
their own places
the veil of orange silk
above the black long hair
concealing
the face where the
softest of all lips
hide
the air occupies all
the space
of this empty heart
always longing for what i love
years ago,
years back and yet
cannot be touched not even in
those tender hands
of my own dreams

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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