we finally situate
beyond the threshold of pain
we sit on a chair
look over the window
extend our view to the sea
till the horizon
we familiarize with what
pains too do
with the shores and the
forest
the trees and the
grass
then we look again inward
like the entrails of
the chicken
we feel nothing anymore
those pains have
become a part of our skin
they don't do any harm
anymore
we don't even notice
whether they are still here
or they are gone
for good forever
RIC S. BASTASA
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/those-pains/
