che

''After Such Pleasures"



Tonight, seeking your mouth in another mouth.

almost believing it, because that's how blind this river is

that throws me into some woman and submerges me in her

eyes,

and it's sad to swim finally toward the shore of sleep

knowing pleasure is that lowlife slave

who accepts counterfeit coins and circulates them, smiling.



Forgotten purity, how could I hope to recover

that ache of Buenos Aires, that ceaseless hopeless

expectation.

Alone in my open house above the port

to begin being in love with you again,

to meet you again over the morning coffee

with nothing that can't be forgiven

having occured.

And without my having to remember this oblivion

that rises

to no purpose, to erase your squiggles from the blackboard

and leave me nothing more than a starless window. ''