what we feel most has no name.

[…]

Everyone I ever failed Come to forgive me For what I wish They could help me

With.

Irina

No one, that is, who doesn’t want to hear about the past

and its inhabitants, or the strange loneliness of the present

filled, even as it may be, with pleasure, or those snapshots

of the future, different heads on different bodies.

Some people actually desire honesty. They must never have broken

into their own solitary houses after having misplaced the key,

never seen with an intruder’s eyes what is theirs.

Let it be anywhere on any night you wish, in your room that is empty and dark

or down the street or at those dim frontiers you barely see, barely dream of.

You will not feel desire, nothing will warn you, no sudden wind, no stillness of air.

She will appear, looking like someone you knew: the friend who wasted her life,

the girl who sat under the palm tree. Her bracelets will glitter, becoming the lights