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It

TO Kiss it, and hug it, and touch it,
To stare at it, to slide my hands beneath it,
To make my lips touch it, and to rub my body against it,
To bring it to life with me, to undress it and caress it,
To kiss its all body with my tongue
To be above it at its center
Of its being,
To sleep with it and wake with it
After a night of love,

To be crazy with it,
To dance with it, and be with it, and leave all that I have
Because, all because of it,
To destroy family ties, and make enemies of all people
Because of it,
Because it is wholeheartedly delicious
Because I can be free
Because my whole being likes to be with it,
Because I am in love with it,
Because I can be whole
Because I can be complete
Simply because

I am not me today
I am
I am still going to be.

IT.
Just it, it cannot love me in return,
It just laughs
And cannot understand,
It is just it,
And it calls me simply
Not even with my name,
That I can die for it,
It
Simply calls me
IT.

It’s crazy, I know
But tell me what I can really do about
IT.

IT IS NOTHING.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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