A Mode of Hangings

To stop at the window of a shop

that is closed, to wait at the corner

for that someone to pass one, someone

with whom recognition is manifested

like a stab, there is something in this.

A world to enter, a fresh re-

flection of one's past in surroundings

quite unfamiliar, a mode of hangings

over doors & mirrors that is common

but yet for the first time encountered.

The strangeness of strangers is cancelled out

by the strangeness around them.

The will that brought them together

knows this, and yearns for it,

to meet quite another in union.

And what is it occurs when strangers

lose their strangeness in the strangeness

around them until there is not even that,

and the will that brought them together

is purified & merged?

Say that the hangings tremble. A presence

voids the surroundings. Say that it glides

from the figure of one to that of the other.

To wait at the corner for that someone

to pass one, there is something in this.